Nightmares Revisited
by Kelcor
Summary: As the title indicates, this is a retelling of the classic S1 ep Nightmares cuz a little bit of Jack can go a long way. :-) Lots of Mac whump and h/c from Jack. A bit of Jack whump, too. :-) Sap galore! It's all written except for the final scene but it's super long, so I'm going to post one chapter at a time. I hope you enjoy! HurtMac! CaringJack! COMPLETE! :-D
1. Chapter 1

MacGyver eased himself down into the seat with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. He couldn't remember ever being so thankful for the abundantly cushioned seats as he was in that very moment. With his eyes closed in silent reprieve, he mentally gauged Jack's progress as his friend walked by and sat in the seat directly across from him. He could feel the other man's gaze lock onto him, so he schooled his features and opened his eyes, meeting that piercing gaze head on. Jack had been busy fighting four guys to MacGyver's two, no need to worry the man about a couple of bruised ribs. Not to mention the fact, Mac didn't like to be coddled. Ever.

But especially not today.

"You okay?" Jack asked.

At first, Mac was worried that Jack had seen through his façade. But he quickly realized that, although there was an undeniable concern in the tone, there was no anxiety or alarm. So, MacGyver just smiled and said, "Couldn't be better," then he closed his eyes again before Jack saw his statement for the blatant lie that it was.

' _I wasn't hiding my injury solely out of pride – okay, that might have been part of it because, let's face it, Jack had taken more hits than I had and_ _he_ _wasn't complaining. But mostly my refusal to admit being hurt was because I didn't want Jack to feel guilty for not being able to handle all six guys on his own. Sometimes I get the feeling that Jack thinks he's a superhero or something. And, to be completely honest, he's pretty much right.'_

"Okay, good," Jack muttered, the relief in his voice bringing a fond smile to MacGyver's face. "Now, about this pilot."

That statement had Mac squinting one eye open again to regard his friend. "What about her?"

"I don't trust her, man."

He opened both eyes now, giving Jack the undivided attention his instincts deserved, and reminded him patiently, "I had the same reservations but she showed us the correct forms as soon as we asked for them. And I checked for the Foundation's hidden watermark, Jack. They're not forgeries. What else can we do?"

"My Spidey-senses are tingling, bro."

MacGyver grinned at the superhero reference despite himself.

"What?"

' _The question was innocent enough because with all of Jack's seemingly superhero abilities, he had absolutely no idea what had been going through my mind just moments earlier. And he never would.'_

Mac closed his eyes again, still grinning from ear to ear. "Nothing, Jack. Nothing at all."

* * *

Jack played Bejeweled on his phone while MacGyver slept. He was sure everyone would have expected him to be playing something more action packed – like Horizon Chase or the new Boxing app – and they would usually be right, but something about their new pilot still didn't sit right with him and stringing these jewels together helped him think.

He and their usual pilot, Milo Giglia went way back. He'd been there to fly Jack and Sarah home from Belarus in time for Jack to say a final goodbye to his dad. Jack had even been the one to recommend him for hire at DXS. In all these years, Jack had never known the man to 'call in sick'. Not to mention the fact that this had supposedly happened while they were on foreign soil. If that were true, and Milo really was sick, why wasn't he flying back home with them?

MacGyver shifted in his sleep and Jack didn't miss the pained groan at the movement. He focused his attention back on his young friend, getting the sneaking suspicion that Mac had downplayed – read: completely failed to mention – an injury. Again. He replayed their most recent mission escapades in his head and promptly remembered MacGyver being held by one bad guy, with another advancing on him.

Mac had eventually used the leverage of the man holding his arms behind his back to pull his knees to his chest and kick out at the other one. But Jack had seen that move a good 30 to 40 seconds afterwards. Jack knew, if he had been the one doing the advancing, his first few punches would've been to the ribs and wouldn't have taken longer than half a minute or so.

With this knowledge, a genuine concern for his best friend's well-being, and a slight sense of betrayal that Mac had outright lied to him, Jack used his stealth training to get closer to MacGyver so he could lift the kid's shirt and see for himself what _'Couldn't be better'_ meant to his young partner. Unfortunately, Jack's phone chose that exact moment to ring.

MacGyver woke to find Jack inches away from him. Startled, he gasped and pushed hard into the back of his seat in an attempt to put some distance between himself and what he deemed to be an attack. Both of these ill-conceived actions combined to bring involuntary tears to his eyes. Covering his face with one hand as he tried to breathe through the pain, he vaguely heard Jack answer the phone. "Patty, I'll have to call you back."

Seconds later, when he was still unable to bring sufficient oxygen into his lungs, Mac felt a strong, calloused hand gripping the back of his neck, grounding him. But it wasn't enough.

"Come on, kid. Breathe."

' _Funny how not being able to breathe can take away all your inhibitions – like, I don't know, not wanting your indestructible best friend to see you cry?'_

Mac grabbed a hold of the armrest with one hand, then, no longer concerned about hiding the tears in his eyes, he dropped his hand from his face, seeking out the other armrest at the opposite side of the seat. Instead, he found himself grasping another hand for dear life. Jack's hand, he realized instinctually.

Completely unaware that the tears in his eyes were now streaming down his cheeks.

The kid's tears broke Jack's heart but they also pushed him into action. He sat down in the seat next to MacGyver. After snapping the armrest up to stand between the two seats, he turned the younger man as gently as he possibly could so that MacGyver's back was pressed against his chest. Uncoordinated hands fought him, so he grabbed both of his friend's wrists and gathered the arms into a crisscross pattern across the lean chest that was now heaving with panic and held them there.

"All right, Mac, I want you to breathe with me, kid. Okay. In and out. Come on, you can do it."

Some of Jack's words must have broken through the building panic because MacGyver started to do as he was told.

"That's it. Nice and slow. In. And… out. There you go. Good boy."

MacGyver came to his senses enough to realize he was practically sitting on Jack's lap. Mortified, he tried to push and pull away but Jack's stronger and more coordinated arms held him where he was.

"Just relax, kiddo. It's just you and me here."

Mac's eyes darted around the airplane, confirming what he already knew to be true. They were alone. He still didn't like it but he forced himself to relax and breathe. For now.

Jack kept one arm stretched out across Mac's chest, keeping his arms immobile, then used his free hand to card through the blond hair. The younger of the two was loathe to admit it but the father-like gesture was actually soothing.

' _Just one more thing to add to the list of things that Jack will never know."_

It warmed Jack's heart to feel Mac's tension ease significantly once he started stroking his hair. But he could still see the shame burning the kid's cheeks. Mac never liked to show weakness. Even around his best friend. Well, that was just too bad.

Once he was breathing normally, MacGyver made a move to scramble off Jack's lap but Jack held him firm. "Easy, Mac. Unless you want to have a repeat of the last few minutes. Just let me do the work."

Cheeks flushing even brighter, Mac felt Jack's hands slip beneath his arms and allowed himself to be gently lifted off his friend's lap until he was relatively standing on his own two feet. As Jack stood up behind him, MacGyver made a move to return to his original seat.

"Ah, ah, ah," Jack gently scolded, taking him by the elbow and leading him to the sofa at the back of the plane.

"I'm fine, Jack," was the petulant mumble Mac heard coming out of his own lips.

' _That's right, Mac. Because acting like a five-year-old is so gonna help your case.'_

Either Jack was able to decipher the mumbling, or knew what he was saying because it had been said on so many other occasions. "Fine. Right. Whatever you say, kid." He helped MacGyver down onto the sofa, then leaned down to pull his legs up and ease the younger man onto his back.

As Jack unfolded a blanket to lay over top of him, Mac felt his pride rear its ugly head. "I'm not a kid and you are not my father," he whispered, surprised at the bitterness of his tone. He watched as Jack froze, saw something flicker in his eyes, then it was gone as fast as it appeared.

"Get some sleep, Mac," was all Jack said as he spread the blanket out over top of him.

"Jack…" MacGyver tried.

But Jack had already given him his back and was walking away. "Last I checked, talking isn't sleeping," he tossed over his shoulder.

' _I have no idea why I said that to him. Wait. That's not true. I knew_ _exactly_ _why and it had absolutely nothing to do with Jack. But knowing the reason didn't make it a good excuse. And it certainly didn't give me the option to take the words back.'_

MacGyver watched as Jack sat down in a seat about halfway down the plane. Still, he sat facing him, so he hadn't completely turned his back on him.

So, with guilt weighing on him, the blond fell asleep watching his best friend dial a number into his phone.

' _Unfortunately, we mere humans sometimes forget that even superheroes have feelings. Harsh words from the people they care about is pretty much their kryptonite.'_

* * *

Exceedingly thankful that Patricia Thornton was back at the helm of Phoenix where she belonged, Jack called her back as promised, providing him with a perfect excuse to give Mac some space. As he waited for the call to go through, he studied his young friend – who looked even younger while drifting in dreamland. He didn't regret what he'd done. A breathing MacGyver meant a living MacGyver and that always trumped any kind of pride in Jack's book. That said, he understood more than Mac thought he did…

Suddenly, Jack realized the line still wasn't ringing on the other end. He pulled his phone away from his ear to look at the screen – no service. Huh. That was a first. He turned in his seat and looked back at the closed cockpit door. _Okay, let's not jump to conclusions, Jack._

He stood up and tiptoed back to the sofa. Again, going into stealth mode, and knowing that at least his phone wouldn't almost kill the kid this time, he reached into the inside pocket of MacGyver's coat and pulled out his cell phone.

No service.

His gaze once again found the cockpit door, Spidey-senses roaring now.

"What is it?"

The unexpected sound of MacGyver's voice almost made Jack jump in surprise. However, his Delta Force training ensured he didn't even flinch.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Jack whispered.

"And you're supposed to be checking in with Thornton," Mac whispered back. "And why are we whispering?"

"Because I couldn't check in with Thornton."

Still on his back on the sofa, MacGyver peered up at him with confusion. "I'm just waking up but I'm pretty sure that made absolutely no sense, Jack."

"You were only asleep for all of about 10 minutes," Jack informed him, reaching an arm beneath MacGyver's shoulders to help him into a sitting position. "You sure that was enough shut-eye?" he asked, easing the kid to his feet… and not missing for a second that Mac was gritting his teeth throughout the entire process.

"Power naps work best for me," MacGyver whispered between still-clenched teeth. "Besides, judging by the look on your face, you need me."

"Always," Jack said softly. "But you do know that I'm going to have to take a look at those ribs eventually, right?"

"Eventually," Mac conceded. "But, for now, how about you explain to me what exactly is going on."

"Remember those doubts I had about our lady pilot?"

"Yeah," MacGyver responded, drawing out the word with a sense of dread.

"Well, they're turning out to be well-grounded."

"I think you mean well-founded, Jack." MacGyver was unable to completely hide his smirk. Jack was the smartest guy he knew when it came to tactical training, weapons, self-defense, and a lot of other things people who judged the book by its cover might be surprised to learn about.

Grammar was definitely _not_ one of those things.

That said, Jack's withering glare told Mac this was not the time for teasing. Even if he was just trying to make sure that what he'd said earlier about Jack not being his father didn't just totally ruin the best friendship he'd been able to achieve since Bozer.

Jack being Jack picked up on what Mac was thinking without a word ever being said – another one of his myriad of skills – and placed a calloused palm on the back of MacGyver's neck once again, giving it a firm squeeze. "We're good, kid. And we always will be, okay?"

MacGyver offered a curt nod in response, the suspicious lump in his throat preventing him from saying anything.

"Okay," Jack said, giving him a quick one-armed hug. "Now, what say we take out this imposter pilot and get ourselves home?"

"Sounds good," Mac finally managed.

Stealth pushed to the wayside, Jack ran up the aisle toward the cockpit, with MacGyver close behind. He tried the door, not surprised to find it locked, then took a step back and kicked it. Hard. The door shuddered a bit but didn't give. Mac took a step up so they could try to kick it down together but Jack pulled him back again. "Not this time, amigo."

"Why not? It'll be faster."

"First," Jack said, taking a step back and kicking the door again, "we don't have your little lens under the door thingy to give us a heads up about what's waiting on the other side, and my first priority is keeping you safe."

"Second," another kick, "I'm not sure exactly _how_ you're injured but I do know you _are_ injured in some way."

"And third, which is my personal favourite," Jack added with a sly grin, "I got this." He accentuated the final word with another kick and the door, which had been blocked by the body of the co-pilot, crashed inward.

Jack glanced down at the co-pilot with an apologetic wince that the man would never see.

"Uh, Jack," MacGyver said softly.

Realizing his mistake an instant too late, Jack looked back up and found himself face to face with the barrel of a Glock-19.

"Put your hands in the air and back up," the lady pilot said, with the faintest trace of an accent that hadn't been present before.

Jack did as he was told.

"I saw the two of you on the security camera earlier," she informed them. "It was very sweet."

MacGyver blushed but his eyes showed only indignant anger.

' _It was bad enough having the man you admire most in this world seeing you at your weakest. It's a whole other thing when it's someone who is proving to be an enemy.'_

"It was quite obvious how much you care about him," she added, moving her aim from Jack to MacGyver. "Give me the list or I shoot your friend," she demanded, holding her hand out expectantly.

Jack lowered his arms to herd Mac behind him. "Oh, sweetheart, you wanna get to him, you'll have to go through me first."

Mac tried to worm his way around Jack to stand beside him instead of behind him. Unfortunately, Jack blocked him at every pass. "Jack," MacGyver hissed, "don't do this." One more not-so-gentle shove and MacGyver found himself in the lavatory with the door being swung shut behind him. He threw himself at the door but something – probably Jack – was blocking it.

"As you wish," MacGyver heard the pilot say. BANG!

"NO!" MacGyver yelled, even more desperate now to open the door but still unable, like Jack was now a dead weight –

' _Don't even_ _think_ _that, Mac!'_

"Jack! Let me out! Jack!" MacGyver pounded on the door, then his eyes scanned the bathroom, looking for something – anything – that he could use to get out. He pushed his hands roughly through his hair. "Think, MacGyver, think," he muttered to himself, dismayed at the panic he heard in his own voice.

All of a sudden, it was like the floor was yanked out from beneath him and he was thrown to the other side of the lavatory. Which could mean only one thing - the plane was in a dive! The pilot must have turned off the auto-pilot function.

A moment later, the door opened. Just like that. No, not just like that, as Mac saw Jack's hand lower down from the door handle to rest on the floor next to his sprawled body, blood seeping from a wound in his thigh. "Jack!" he yelled, lunging forward to kneel at his friend's side.

Even as he fell to his knees, palming Jack's clammy (already?) and alarmingly pale face, he saw something move in his peripheral vision. He turned to see the lady pilot, parachute fastened securely on her back, running for the side hatch. She was too far away for Mac to stop her. Maybe he could have if his ribs weren't aching worse than ever from his tumble into the lavatory wall moments earlier. But…

Needing to stop Jack from bleeding out but fully aware that once that door opened, both he and Jack would be surely sucked through the hatch with their new 'friend' minus the added bonus of a convenient and life-saving parachute, Mac stubbornly avoided looking at Jack's leg – so much blood! – and dragged him back into the cockpit with him.

He pushed aside the lifeless body of the co-pilot, trying desperately not to think about how that could be Jack in a few minutes, and tried to quickly close the door. Too late. The wind and suction was sudden and extreme. MacGyver was standing behind the door, so he was protected from most of it, but he watched helplessly as the co-pilot's body was sucked into the main aisle of the plane and, Mac could only assume, propelled through the hatch and into the ice-cold atmosphere.

Then Jack's struggling form started to follow. His hands were shooting out to grab hold of something, anything, but failing. Even Mac's own hands were out of his reach. So, MacGyver lunged forward and managed to grab Jack's belt buckle, hauling him back with every ounce of strength he had left, while also throwing his weight against the back of the door in a frantic effort to close it. Inch by inch, the opening narrowed but it wasn't enough.

With one final desperate tug, he looped Jack's now strained but amazingly still fastened belt around the armrest of the recently deceased co-pilot's chair. With both hands free now, Mac was able to put one on either side of him for balance while he braced his feet against the back of pilot's chair and pushed with all his might against the door. He fell to the floor with a painful jarring motion as the door finally closed behind him. He knew he had to lock it but the pain was just too much. Besides, he was pretty sure the lock had been demolished when Jack had kicked the door in.

Now that the roar of the wind wasn't drowning everything else out, Mac was able to hear all too well the alarms going off all around him. The noise was too loud and the pain in his ribs too sharp. Feeling much like a four-year-old, he placed his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, just trying to _think!_

Then something changed. The plane seemed to right itself, even if only a bit. And some of the alarms stopped. He lowered his hands and opened his eyes to see Jack's back against the control panel across from him, concerned gaze locked on MacGyver.

' _Leave it to Jack to be concerned about me, when he was the one with a freakin' hole in his leg!'_

Behind Jack, MacGyver saw the Auto-Pilot button flashing. Giving his partner a silent thumbs up, he looked around to find something to wedge the door shut with and promptly found a flat head screwdriver. Taking a fortifying breath to prepare himself for the pain he knew was to come, Mac gritted his teeth and pushed the screwdriver between door and frame. He stepped back a bit to ensure it would hold, then instantly turned around to tend to Jack.

' _I needed to think fast because, contrary to popular belief, no bullet wound could truly be preceded by the word 'just'.'_

MacGyver unbuckled his belt and quickly ripped it out from beneath the belt loops of his jeans.

' _Especially, when said wound is in the thigh. There are a lot of vital arteries in the leg. Every minute counted and too many of them had already passed! If I didn't get that bleeding under control fast, Jack could very well die! And, if that happened, I didn't much care if the plane crashed or not.'_

He wrapped his belt around Jack's thigh, earning a moan of pain from his patient when he tightened it. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, meaning it but knowing it had been necessary.

' _Some might call that melodramatic. I call it losing your best friend after saying cruel words to him that you never had time to take back. But, don't worry, I was not about to let that happen.'_

"Auto-pilot can only do so much with an open hatch on the plane. You need to take over the controls, brother," Jack said, stating the obvious between pained gasps.

"I don't know how to fly a plane," MacGyver countered. "There's a reason why you're the one who's always behind that stick, y'know!"

Jack motioned for MacGyver to come closer. Unable to deny the man under the current circumstances, Mac went down on his knees next to him. Jack reached up and, yet again, gripped the back of his neck. MacGyver tried to ignore how much hotter the calloused palm felt as Jack pulled him in close so their foreheads were touching.

"I'm so sorry," Mac confessed. "I should have listened to you."

The look Jack gave him told him in no uncertain terms that that was the last thing on his mind. "You can do this, brah. I'll be right here with you, walking you through every step. Okay?"

"Promise?" MacGyver whispered, knowing how needy he sounded and beyond the point of caring.

"I do," Jack confirmed. "Now, get over there and save our lives just like you always do."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I'm so happy you're enjoying my story so far! I only hope the enjoyment continues! :-D Here is the second installment. Fair warning, I'm going to do my best to end each one on a cliffie - but it shouldn't be long between posts! :-) Shorter if I feel a lot of people are waiting on it. lol *hint, hint* Maximum one day, either way. :-)_

 _A/N2_ _I know nothing about flying a plane, so instead of risking insulting all the accomplished pilots out there, I skipped the 'Jack instructional' phase of the story. :-)_

Thirty minutes later, Mac had not only landed the plane on the runway of the closest airport but had also repaired the radio so that he could call ahead to have help waiting for them. Jack had kept his promise, like he always had, and stayed with MacGyver right up to the point where the wheels touched down on solid ground. Now, Mac just had to slow the plane down and they were home free. In the distance, he could even see emergency vehicles headed towards them.

Breath coming in short gasps now, MacGyver glanced away from the various instruments and gauges long enough to offer a triumphant smile to Jack – only to find him unconscious. "Jack!" His gaze snapped back and forth from Jack to the runway and the gauges. "Jack!" Trying not to panic, Mac did his best to remember what Jack had done the times he had taken them up in his two seater for a bit of escape from the real world.

He finally managed to bring the plane to a full and complete stop, unnervingly close to another plane waiting for take-off, and found the controls to open the hatch so that emergency crews could get on the plane. Without another second's hesitation, heedless of his own injuries, MacGyver dropped to the floor next to his best friend and protector, checking for a pulse with shaking hands. It was faint and thready but there.

The large red mark forming on the other man's temple spoke volumes, however. The landing on the tarmac had been anything but gentle and it wasn't like Jack had been wearing a seatbelt. He must have been thrown into the wall, or something.

Next thing Mac knew, he was being gently pulled to his feet and led away from Jack. He must have protested in some way because he heard the EMT assuring him that Jack would be right behind them.

As it turned out, they had landed in the Halifax airport in Nova Scotia, Canada. With a population of just over 500,000 the Regional Municipality of Halifax was much smaller than Los Angeles but definitely larger than Mission City which had a population of under 80,000.

It had felt like forever to Mac but actually took less than an hour for the ambulance to reach the Charles V. Keating Emergency and Trauma Center located in the Halifax Infirmary.

Despite his objections, MacGyver's injuries had been treated shortly after the doctors had wheeled Jack through a set of swinging doors for emergency surgery. Mac had tried to follow but a stubborn nurse had blocked his path, assuring him that the doctors would do everything they could to save his friend but that they couldn't do that if they were worried about MacGyver collapsing on the floor next to him. The words brought Mac to an abrupt halt.

' _That one comment reminded me of when we had first come across Murdoc and Jack had actually raised his voice to me. He'd never done that before.'_

"… _Hey, I am not gonna argue with you on this one, all right? I cannot do my thing, if I am worried about losing you every minute. The last thing I need is your death on my conscience. It'd kill me. Don't do that to me…"_

Mac's eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall, anxiously watching the still swinging doors beyond which lay his best friend.

' _All I could do was pray that Jack knew the feeling was mutual, that I felt the same way about losing him.'_

" _I'm not a kid, and you are not my father… I'm not a kid, and you are not my father… I'm not a kid, and you are not my father…"_

MacGyver sat in the hospital room, watching a too-still version of his partner and best friend, the cruel words he had said on the plane on constant replay in his head, along with a veritable snapshot of the hurt look on Jack's face in response. All for the small USB drive currently resting in his pants pocket.

' _It's times like these, when having an almost perfect memory really sucks.'_

Mac moved one hand up to the bed, digging beneath the many blankets he had piled on top of his friend to keep him warm. When he finally found Jack's hand, although hesitant and unsure, he took it into his own and held on as if he could pull Jack back to consciousness by sheer will alone.

' _The doctors told me that the head injury had led to swelling in the brain and that they would need to operate if the swelling didn't go down on its own but it was too soon to tell. Long and short of it, Jack had slipped into a coma. The body's way of giving his brain time to heal.'_

A lone tear slipped free from the corner of his eye and slid down the side of his nose unchecked.

' _Various studies had shown that coma patients were aware of what was going on around them. That they knew when someone was with them – voices, physical contact, any number of things could let Jack know that he wasn't alone.'_

Mac squeezed Jack's hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the back of it. "I'm here, big guy."

The blond raised his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

' _I had tried to contact both Riley and Thornton but all I got each time was a recording telling me the number was out of service. I didn't even want to think about what that implied. Regardless, it looked like Jack and I were on our own for the time being.'_

MacGyver's gaze once again found his friend, moving from the bandaged leg, to their clasped hands, and not stopping until he reached the slack face – Jack's face was never without expression – and the hair flat against the man's skull just seemed… wrong. Mac felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

' _More accurately; I was on my own.'_

Reluctantly, he released Jack's hand and stood up from his chair, eyes scanning the room with practiced efficiency.

' _And, since I am on my own – for the time being, anyway – I was going to need to take some precautions.'_

His gaze settled on a vent near the lower corner of one wall. He stepped over to it, pulling his Swiss Army knife out of his pocket as he moved. Using one of the appendages on the knife, he loosened the screws holding the vent cover in place. With a final glance at the door, he got to work.

* * *

Fast asleep, MacGyver was once again gripping Jack's hand in his own, his cheek resting on the mattress next to his friend's arm.

' _It had been a week, and Jack still hadn't woken up. I'd grab a nap once in a while but drank as much coffee as I could because even sleep didn't hold a refuge for me. Then again, it never had. And my overactive imagination and near perfect recall all but assured me it never would. But even coffee could only keep me awake for so long. Eventually… I crashed.'_

Mac twitched in his sleep. "No, no," the words were mumbled, nearly incoherent. "J'ck, don' leave m'. Jack!" The last word was a shout, snapping MacGyver out of his dream and onto his feet. His eyes darted about the room as he tried to get his bearings…

And stuttered to a stop on Jack's worried gaze locked onto him.

"Jack?" MacGyver dared to hope but part of him was afraid he had merely jumped into another nightmare and Jack was going to disappear on him again.

"The one and only," Jack whispered with a smile, concerned eyes still focused on him. "You were having a nightmare. You wanna talk about it?"

MacGyver shook his head emphatically, eyes wide to keep the unexpected tears from spilling over. His nightmares were never a good topic of conversation.

"All right, I get it, I get it. But are you okay, kid?"

The threat of the nightmare gone, Mac couldn't help but offer up a watery smile at hearing his friend's voice again, even though it sounded like he was talking around pieces of shattered glass. Chastising himself for not thinking of it sooner, MacGyver hastily wiped at his eyes and then, with shaky hands, he poured some water from the pitcher on the nightstand into a glass. A few seconds later, he was holding it up for his best friend to take a sip through the bendy straw.

Once Jack was able to capture the suspiciously twitchy straw in his mouth, he closed his eyes and groaned with delight. The ice-cold beverage felt like heaven on his throat. He waved his hand once he'd had enough and MacGyver put the glass back on the nightstand next to the pitcher.

"Thank you," Jack said sincerely, voice sounding much more clear. Then he grabbed Mac by the wrist, grip gentle but firm – firmer than Mac would have expected. "You never answered my question, bud. Are. You. Okay?"

"Am I okay? You're the one who's been in a coma for a week," Mac countered, feeling his cheeks burn at the catch in his voice on the final word.

"A week, huh? I guess, that explains the dark circles under your eyes and the jittery hands. Sit down before you fall down, will you, please?" Jack ordered softly. "How much coffee have you had to drink, anyway?"

' _And dang it if that gaze wasn't still locked with my own, as if he were staring directly into my soul. Actually, knowing Jack, he probably was.'_

MacGyver shrugged but sat down as instructed, thankfully being given a reason to break the eye contact when he had to search for the chair that nearly toppled over in his haste to escape the nightmare. He didn't fail to notice that Jack's grip on his wrist didn't loosen for a second.

"You have the doctors check you out, too?"

Mac nodded. Unable to speak around the lump in his throat. After everything he had said on the plane, Jack still cared. Seriously?

"And?"

"Uh," he coughed to clear his throat, "it ended up being a bit worse than I thought."

"A bit worse, meaning…?" Jack asked leaving the question open for Mac to fill in the blanks.

"As in a couple fractured ribs," the blond reluctantly admitted, then added quickly, "But they're mostly healed now."

"Those things take at least three to six weeks to heal, my friend."

"The doctors say your leg is healing nicely," MacGyver interjected, trying to deflect attention off himself and onto the one that mattered. "They said the only thing really keeping you here was the whole 'not waking up' thing," he added with an absent wave of the hand. "So, now that you're up…" His rambling tapered off and he wilted just a bit when he noticed Jack's piercing stare was still locked on him. Finally, he shrugged. "It doesn't hurt as much as it did on the plane," he admitted.

"You do have a high pain tolerance," Jack conceded. "You still got the list?"

Mac grinned and pointed to the vent in the wall.

Jack's eyebrow went up. "Won't it get damaged by the heat pumpin' outta that thing?"

"Jack, it's the middle of July."

"Is that why it's so dang hot in here?"

MacGyver studied him, concern colouring his features once again. He reached up and placed the back of his hand against Jack's forehead. "You do seem a little warm."

Jack swatted his hand away. "Relax, I'm fine. Just got too many blankets on me." He glanced down at the bed and the heavy covers spread over top of him. "What were you tryin' to do? Cocoon me, or something?" Mac blushed. Clearly, Jack wasn't the only Mother Hen in the room. Giving the kid a bit of an out, he nodded toward a bouquet of flowers on the table across the room. "Who're those from?"

MacGyver followed his gaze, seeing the flowers for the first time. "Uh, I don't know. I hadn't noticed them until now."

"Maybe they're from Riley."

"It's not likely."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Jack agreed, an odd lilt to his voice. "I mean, we seemed to be okay over Christmas but once 2017 hit, she went right back to hating me all over again."

Staring at the flowers, it took MacGyver a minute to hear what Jack was saying. "What? No, that's not what I meant at all. I just don't know how they _could_ be from Riley. Or from Thornton, for that matter." Seeing Jack's confused look, he explained, "I haven't been able to reach either of them at the Foundation or on their personal lines since we landed. A recording says the number is out of service. It's like the whole place and everyone in it went incommunicado for some reason." He paused, truly studying his friend, recognizing the emotions that only he'd be able to see. "I'm sure if Riley knew you were here, she would have sent flowers. Or something. She doesn't hate you, Jack," he added sympathetically. "I think she just likes giving you a hard time."

"Yeah," Jack said, clearing his throat. "Uh, where is here, anyway?"

"A little city on the eastern coast of Canada. Halifax, I think."

Jack smiled. "East Coast. Good times."

"I take it you've been here before," MacGyver guessed, matching Jack's smile with one of his own.

"Oh, yeah," Jack said with a chuckle. "I could tell you stories – Wait. Hold on a minute. Rewind a bit. Did you just tell me that you weren't able to reach anyone? Not even Bozer?"

Another shrug. "I s'pose I could've tried the landline at the house but I didn't want to worry him."

"In other words, you didn't want to have to lie to Bozer about being okay with the possibility of me dying."

Mac's breath caught in his chest. How could Jack be so carefree when he said that? Then he saw Jack's eyes fill with even more sympathy and realized he was anything but carefree. The intensity of the gaze had MacGyver squirming under the scrutiny, his mind flashing back to another death, in another hospital; then quickly skipping to the day exactly 15 years ago…

Jack's hand on his wrist offered a reassuring squeeze, pulling him back to the present. "So, you really have been alone, then."

' _I so did not want to brooch that subject. Like, at all.'_

MacGyver attempted to tug free of Jack's hold but the man was like a dog with a bone when it came to Mac's well-being. In response, he met Jack's gaze, silently pleading with him *not now*. With a nod toward the flowers, he said, "Do you want me to check for a card, or not?"

Jack released him but not before sending his own silent message: *This isn't over, kid*. He watched as his young friend stepped over to the flowers, and searched through the blossoms for a clue as to who the sender was. And if Mac thought Jack would miss the uneven gait, he was sorely mistaken.

"This is... weird," MacGyver said haltingly, his words interrupting Jack's thoughts.

"What is?"

"The card. It says, 'Don't miss the high school game on Friday afternoon at 4pm. The pass from little Angus to Hollingsworth is sure to cause a Wave of excitement.'"

"Little Angus?" Jack teased.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just stay on topic, shall we?" Mac returned dryly. "It's signed – Patricia. I mean, it's clearly a message. Albeit a cryptic one. But what do you think it means? And how did she know where to send the flowers in the first place?"

"I stopped trying to figure out where Patty gets her information a long time ago. As for what it means, you're the riddle master, not me."

At that moment, a pretty nurse came into the room. Her gaze landed on Jack almost immediately. "I'm so happy to see you're awake," she said cheerfully. "We were getting a bit worried about whether or not MacGyver here would get a full night's sleep ever again."

She had meant it as teasing, possibly even flirting, judging by the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at MacGyver, but Jack latched onto her words. "Is that so," he intoned, not really phrasing it as a question as his eyes found Mac who was once again squirming, looking at anyone and anything but Jack.

The younger man afforded the nurse a small smile. "Hi again, Lisa." Then, still avoiding eye contact with his partner, he asked, "Is there any tourist attractions in the city that maybe have to do with a wave of some sort?"

He had expected her to be perplexed at his odd question but, instead, her face lit up with understanding. "Oh, you must mean the Wave."

MacGyver and Jack shared a look. "Uh, yeah, I guess so," Mac said. "Can you tell me where it is?"

"Sure, I can even show you, if you like," she offered kindly, that twinkle back in her eye.

Mac actually blushed at her blatant flirtation. Jack, for his part, just sat back and watched the show. She was around Mac's age and the kid looked like he could use a little distraction.

"Uh," MacGyver stammered, sending a half-hearted glare Jack's way for enjoying his discomfort way too much. "That's okay," he said, then added "Maybe next time," when he saw the disappointment on her face.

"Maybe next time," she agreed, smiling shyly again as she checked Jack's vitals.

When she started to leave without another word, Mac took her gently by the hand. The gesture was only meant to stop her but he's pretty sure they both felt the spark. Blushing and stumbling over his words once again, he said, "Where's the, uh, the Wave located?"

"Oh, sorry," Lisa said sincerely. "It's down on the waterfront, near Sackville Street. It's a huge sculpture shaped like, well," she giggled and Mac felt his heart swell just a tiny bit at the sweet sound, "like a wave. You can't miss it," she told him as she headed out the door.

Jack smirked as Mac's gaze instinctively watched her bottom sway gently from side to side as she walked away, an action that is second nature to some men but had MacGyver blushing profusely upon realizing Jack had noticed. Taking pity on the kid, Jack threw him a line. "Care to share what's goin' through that ginormous brain of yours?" When MacGyver's blush only burned brighter, Jack clarified, "About the card, kid. Seems like you may have an idea what Patty's trying to say?"

"Oh, yeah," MacGyver replied, relief flooding his face. He stepped closer to the bed and, with a glance at the door to ensure it was closed, he said, "I think she wants me to hand off the list to someone named Hollingsworth at the Wave this Friday afternoon at 4pm."

"Okay, that makes sense, I guess. What day is today?"

Mac pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the home screen, which only made Jack worry that much more to know the kid didn't even know what day it was. Before he was able to voice his concern, however, MacGyver looked up from his phone in alarm - "Today is Friday, Jack. And it's already almost 3:15."

"PM?" Jack confirmed, sitting up a bit straighter in his bed.

MacGyver nodded, forcing himself to not be concerned by the fact that Jack's usually observant eye hadn't caught the obvious afternoon light filtering through the blinds. He instinctually knew, and was humbled by the fact, that Jack's keen observations were set on him instead. "There's not much time."

Jack watched Mac dart over to the vent. Within seconds, he had the vent cover off and was pulling the USB drive out. He quickly slipped it back into his pocket and replaced the grated cover to the vent.

"Okay," Jack said with a sigh, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, "we gotta get goin', then."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," MacGyver exclaimed. He quickly returned to the bed, placing a hand against Jack's chest and shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Well, you're not goin' alone, if that's what your thinkin'," Jack told him in a tone that offered no room for argument.

"It's a simple hand off," MacGyver insisted, gently easing his friend's legs back onto the bed., being extra careful of the bandaged thigh. "Besides, you're still healing."

When Jack was still unconvinced, MacGyver allowed some of his well-hidden torment to flow into his gaze. "Please, Jack. You almost died. I - I can't…" his entreaty trailed off, the silent _'lose you too'_ not needing to be voiced.

Jack heard the truth in the words and saw the unmasked emotion in the kid's eyes. "Fine," he said, humbled by Mac's concern. In a blatant attempt to make Mac smile, he added, "But I'm agreeing under protest."

"Protest duly noted," MacGyver grinned.

 _Mission accomplished,_ Jack thought. "You got your phone on ya'?" he asked. MacGyver held up the phone still in his hand. "Oh. Right. Good." He looked around the immediate vicinity but came up empty. "Uh, where's mine?"

Needing to prove to Jack that he was fine, Mac let out the expected put-upon sigh as he moved over to the closet on the other side of the room. He extracted Jack's cell phone from the inside pocket of his black leather jacket and brought it over to him. "Need anything else?" The words were sincere despite the returning grin.

"No," Jack groused. "Thanks. Now, don't go getting' yourself hurt, cuz I don't wanna hafta carry you home."

"Whatever, Gimpy," MacGyver said, freezing after the last word, wondering if the quip was too soon after the harsh words on the plane. But he was rewarded with a playful punch to the arm and a gentle shove toward the door.

"Get goin' then," Jack told him. "Time's a wastin'."

Mac grinned as he stepped out into the hall, hearing a softly uttered "Be careful," just before the door swung shut behind him. Seeing that no one was in the hallway to see him, he no longer bothered trying to hide the slight limp to his walk caused by his still aching ribs.

* * *

Enjoying the beautiful summer day, MacGyver made slow but steady progress down to the waterfront, being sure to consult the map on his phone from time to time along the way. On foot, the map said it would take about 25 minutes to get to his destination, leaving Mac with a 20 minute buffer, give or take a couple minutes.

As he approached the waterfront, his belly grumbled at a certain scent being carried in the warm air. Taking a bit of a detour, he followed his nose to a food stand with a sign above it that read: 'Beaver Tails'.

"Aw, come on, Jay. Let me try. Pleeaassee?"

MacGyver turned and saw two boys fishing at the end of the pier. The one doing the pleading appeared to be about eight, while the other, Jay, looked to be closer to 14. He watched as the teen pulled the fishing line out of the water, a clump of seaweed hanging from its hook. Jay removed the seaweed with a grunt of frustration. The anger morphed into a gentle smile, however, when he turned to the younger boy, presumably his brother, and handed him the fishing rod.

Mac meandered over toward the two boys, grinning fondly as Jay showed his little brother what to do. He didn't want to interrupt the moment but didn't really have time to wait. "Hey, guys," he started, not missing the fact that the teen's eyes immediately took on a look of suspicion. "My name's MacGyver. Mind if I give you a hand?"

"No, thanks," Jay said with forced civility. "We're good."

The smaller boy elbowed him in the gut. "No, we're not, Jay. I'm hungry and I don't wanna hafta go through the dumpster again for supper."

MacGyver's heart broke a little bit at this revelation and he watched as the teen's attitude softened, if only a tiny bit. Sensing that Jay would be too proud to accept any kind of handout, Mac decided to offer his assistance in another, less obvious way, instead. "May I?" he asked, motioning toward the fishing line.

Jay hesitated, then nodded. MacGyver got it. It was highly likely this fishing rod was their only source of food, so the teen was understandably a little protective of it. Mac knelt down and offered the younger of the two a piece of gum, partially unwrapping it and leaving the gum sticking out of the foil covering. The boy looked up at his brother for permission but suspicion had returned to the too-old eyes on the too-young face.

Instantly, Mac understood the hesitation and mentally kicked himself. He tore off a piece of the gum and put it into his own mouth, showing Jay that no malice was intended. The teen moved his gaze down to his brother and nodded his consent. MacGyver couldn't help but smile in response to the innocent eyes staring into his as the boy accepted the gum and gleefully placed it in his mouth.

MacGyver folded the gum's foil wrapper over a few times, shiny side out. "See, the most important thing about fishing is, you gotta have a good lure. My grandfather always used to tell me that, if you want a fish to bite down on your hook, you need to first give them something shiny as motivation. Something to make your hook more appealing than the other hooks they've seen."

Foil wrapper ready, Mac moved to the fishing line and slipped the wrapper onto the hook, fanning it out a bit so that it would catch light from as many directions as possible. Jay's smile was uncertain as he said a hesitant, "Thanks. But we can't pay you."

"No need," MacGyver told him. "Just enjoy what you catch."

The surly teen continued to regard him with mistrust but, at least, the tiny smile remained. Meanwhile, the younger, and clearly less jaded of the two – probably due to his big brother's protection from the badness in the world – threw himself into MacGyver's arms and hugged him. Mac was surprised but wrapped his arms around the tiny frame, doing his best to hide the resulting pain in his ribs.

He stood and walked away, his grumbling belly reminding him of the initial reason for his detour. A moment later, he heard a whoop of excitement from both boys. He turned to see a huge fish dangling from the line being pulled out of the water. Smiling, he continued on toward the Beaver Tails stand, where he quickly perused the menu. He was running out of time and still had to make it to the hand off location.

Knowing that he was going to need sustenance and a bit of extra energy if he had any hope of making it back to Jack before the man came looking for him, bum leg or not, MacGyver chose the Butter with Cinnamon Sugar option. Much like the caffeine in the several cups of coffee he had sustained since arriving in Halifax, the cinnamon sugar was not a good source of energy... but it would do in a pinch. He gratefully accepted the pastry and paid with cash before turning away to rush off to the meeting Thornton had arranged for him.

Despite the consistent pain in his ribs and the somewhat indirect route, he made it to his final destination with about two minutes to spare. So, allowing himself to indulge in another bite of the wonderfully decadent treat in his hands, MacGyver took a moment to contemplate the surprisingly beautiful sculpture.

The concrete wave was almost 12 feet tall and stood in the middle of the wharf, its crest facing out onto the ocean. The effects of a recent rain had even created a sheen for the sun to reflect off. All in all, MacGyver had to admit, a truly impressive piece of art.

In his peripheral vision, he noticed an unfamiliar man in jeans and a ball cap approaching. His walk was casual and wouldn't stand out to the inexperienced viewer but Mac knew what to look for. For instance, relaxed gait notwithstanding, the man's gaze was sharp and attentive. He scrutinized MacGyver with ease, most likely mentally comparing Mac's profile with a photo Thornton had given him to study for the occasion. Other than giving the man a nod of greeting, however, Mac held off his trust and allowed the other to make the first move. He didn't have to wait long.

"How ya' doin'," the man asked, tone conversational.

"I'm good," MacGyver responded, remaining on the alert, even as he took another bite of his Beaver Tail. "You?"

"Great. I'm actually on my way to my little guy's football game. The guest list ensures an eventful evening."

' _Okay, granted, guest list was a weird term for the spectator of a game, but it wasn't enough for me to know this was the man Thornton wanted me to hand off the list to.'_

The man held out his hand to shake. "Name's Hollingsworth. My son's name is Angus. He's the star quarterback. Perhaps you've heard of him?"

Hiding his relief at the mention of his uncommon first name, MacGyver reached out and accepted the proffered handshake, simultaneously slipping the USB drive containing the list into the man's hand. "Nice to meet you, Hollingsworth. Enjoy the game."

"Thanks," 'Hollingsworth' replied. "We're having a party to celebrate the win on Sunday. You should come and meet my wife, Patty, if you get the chance. She's a busy lady, what with all the company she's had at work lately, but she promises she'll be there on Sunday."

"You already have the party planned? This win must be a sure thing."

"Oh, it is," Hollingsworth said. "Celebration starts at 5pm sharp." He wrote down the address and handed the slip of paper to MacGyver. "You really should join us. And, don't worry, our dog Chopper will take care of any party crashers."

A moment later, Hollingsworth was gone and Mac was left with Thornton's instructions for exfil – by helicopter, it would seem – held tightly in his fist. Using discretion perfected during his years as a spy, he opened his hand, gazing down at the address and committing it to memory. With an undeniable sense of relief coursing through his veins, he crumpled the slip of paper into the wrapper for his recently devoured Beaver Tail and tossed both into a nearby garbage can, then started back for the hospital.

Things were definitely looking up. Jack was awake sans brain surgery, his leg almost completely healed, and Mac's ribs, though still aching, had definitely improved since their impromptu landing in Halifax Airport. MacGyver was so content, he even felt a whistle come to his lips…

He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't see the men coming up behind him until it was too late.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

MacGyver woke in a small office, surrounded by three men – one in a fancy suit, the other two wearing jeans and flannel.

Taking stock of the situation, Mac discovered that his ankles and wrists were bound to a chair. The scene brought back some less than pleasant memories. In fact, these particular memories were altogether bad. He took a bit of relief in the fact that this time, instead of a South American compound, he got the sense that this was an old warehouse. He couldn't really see anything past the large dirty windows at one side of the room, but… well, it just felt big.

Another plus, the sounds of the ocean and cawing seagulls nearby and the ticking clock on the wall read 5:45. So, assuming it was still Friday, he couldn't have been taken too far away from his waterfront meeting place – and Jack. However, seeing as Jack was currently laid up in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the leg, it wasn't likely that he'd be riding to the rescue anytime soon. Which meant, Mac was on his own. Seemed to be a running theme for the past week or so. He tested his bonds but was not surprised when there was zero give.

"Welcome to the party," the Suit said with an accent similar to the pilot who had tried to kill Jack the week before. Definitely seemed like the boss.

The party reference had MacGyver worried this guy had overheard his exchange with Hollingsworth. Best to play it cool, though. Mac had no idea what was going on yet and didn't want to give away his hand. "I would've come on my own but you didn't give me enough time to RSVP," he quipped, trying to stall for time while he figured a way out of this mess.

The Suit nodded at one of his cohorts, who promptly punched Mac in the face, snapping his head to the side. MacGyver spat blood on the floor but otherwise gave no indication that… well, that that had hurt. A glance down at the man's fist showed him why… brass knuckles.

' _Won-derful. That's gonna leave a mark.'_

"Enough with the jokes, MacGyver." This earned a surprised look from the blond. "Yes, that is right, we know your name. All we want is the list. And then we will let you go."

' _Yeah. Right. No masks. Certainly no aversion to violence. Something told me these guys were being less than truthful.'_

"I'd love to help you guys but I have no idea what you're talking ab –"

Another nod from Suit before Mac even finished his statement, and Mr. Brass Knuckles delivered another powerhouse punch to the other side of his jaw.

Mac shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. This time, the blood dripped down his chin. His next words came out a bit garbled. "Ah'm tellin' y'guys, I don' kno' whut ur tal'in abou'."

Brass Knuckles prepared for another punch, eliciting an involuntary cringe from MacGyver. However, for some reason, Suit held up his hand to stop him.

"No matter," he said.

' _The other guy, I'll call him Thug Number Three, pulled out a small metallic case and handed it to the Suit.'_

The Suit opened the case and pulled out a syringe and tiny vial. He pierced the seal on the vial with the needle and pulled the plunger, sucking fluid out of the bottle and into the syringe. Meanwhile, Thug Number Three rolled up Mac's shirt sleeve, baring his forearm and the inside of his elbow. Mac tried to pull his arm free but to no avail.

' _This just took a drastic turn from bad to worse.'_

"Sorry, fellas, but I have a firm no drug policy."

"Oh," the Suit replied, "this is not one of your common street drugs. This is a poison of a different kind. It does not give you a high. Only blurred vision, hallucinations, immense pain, convulsions and, eventually, death."

"Ah, only," MacGyver retorted sarcastically, struggling now with renewed fervor. Brass Knuckles took on a new role and grabbed Mac by the hair, yanking his head back roughly and wrapping one arm across his throat and holding him in a headlock to keep him still. Meanwhile, Thug Number Three held his arm in an iron grip. Mac strained against both men, truly frightened for the first time since regaining consciousness.

"You have good, strong veins, MacGyver," the Suit said, tone oddly conversational as he chose a vein and slid the needle into it.

Mac clenched his teeth at the pinch from the needle, glaring at the Suit and his henchmen with every ounce of anger he could muster. Which was quite a lot, given the circumstances.

"As I said, MacGyver, this poison will kill you," the Suit reiterated with a nasty grin. "However," he added, pulling a tiny metallic cylinder out of the same case the vial and syringe came from, "if you tell me what I want to know, I will give you the antidote."

Mac's eyes settled on the small cylinder, committing it to memory. His ticket to old age.

"The choice is yours, MacGyver. You have exactly 6 hours." The Suit set a countdown on a digital watch then fastened it around Mac's wrist. "You'll forgive me, of course, if I don't return your smart phone to you just yet. I can't have you calling your good friend, Jack Dalton, for help, now can I? How is he feeling, by the way? Are the doctors taking good care of him at the Trauma Centre?"

The blond head snapped up in alarm at the mention not only of Jack's name but also his location. "That is right, MacGyver. We know all about you _and_ Mr. Dalton. We were merely waiting for you to leave the hospital so we could, how do you say, get the drop on you." He nodded to his cohorts once again. "Take him upstairs. We will give him time to think about his options." Smiling again, he returned his attention to Mac. "I am certain he will make the right decision."

Mac's vision started getting blurry. Brass Knuckles and Thug Number Three swam in and out of focus as they untied him and pulled him to his feet. He wanted to struggle but his arms and legs refused to follow his orders. He couldn't even walk, which meant his feet dragged behind him as he was hauled down the dirty, narrow hallway and up the even dirtier staircase. They literally tossed him into a grungy room, causing him to slide across the filthy floor on his stomach. He couldn't even pick himself up to lie on the bed, the sole piece of furniture in the room. Then again, the floor was probably cleaner.

* * *

Jack opened his eyes. Groggy at first, it took a minute for his memory of recent events to return. He immediately checked the time on his phone... and bit back a curse. The pretty nurse had come back and slipped a little something in his IV without his permission. He'd smiled politely, then ripped the dang thing out as soon as she'd left, keeping it taped to his hand but not under his skin just in case she returned. Good thing, too. Because, apparently, enough had already gotten into his system to knock him out for a few hours. She was sure to have come back at some point and, if she'd noticed the IV torn out, she would have put it back in and who knows when he would've woken up.

Now, it was close to eight and there was no sign of Mac! The meet had been scheduled for four hours ago. Something had to have gone wrong.

He got out of bed and tested putting weight on his injured leg. Collapsing on the tile floor wasn't going to help his cause any. The kid was right. Or the doctors were. Whatever. Either way, he didn't feel much more than a twinge in his leg now.

Mac wasn't the only one with a high pain tolerance.

He found his clothes in the closet and quickly put them on, then headed for the door. He had a Brainiac partner to find.

* * *

MacGyver had no idea how much time had passed before his vision started to return, not to mention feeling in his extremities. And, man, did his ribs hurt. He glanced quickly at the countdown on his newly acquired watch. Okay, he did have an idea. About three hours, leaving him another three hours to get himself out of this mess. No sweat.

' _Think, MacGyver. Think.'_

Taking stock of himself, he was surprised to realize that the pain wasn't too bad. So, he cautiously pulled himself into a sitting position and examined his surroundings with a critical eye. Sink with a dripping faucet on one wall. Previously noted metal cot against another wall. Closed and, he got up on shaky feet to check, yup, locked door.

' _More memories of my time spent with El Noche threatened to spill into the here and now but I blocked them out because (a) there was no time to spare, I had to concentrate on getting out of here; and (b) I_ _really_ _did not want to think about my time with El Noche again. Ever.'_

He eyed the sink again, zeroing in on the drainage pipes below it, then looked down at the belt around his waist.

An idea formed.

' _Huh. That just might do it.'_

He got to work, using what he had within reach to get out of his current situation. Classic MacGyver-style. Only this time, he was working with shaky hands and, by the end of it, had sweat dripping into his eyes.

Holding the cot up on its end and back from the door, Mac surveyed his current masterpiece – pipes below the sink taken apart; the end of his belt open enough to slip over the end of the pipe still attached to the sink, the other end squeezed into the space between the nearest electrical outlet and the wall; faucet turned on, with water travelling down the drain, through Mac's belt and into the electrical outlet; each leg of the cot Mac was holding had a bed spring attached, with the other end attached to the frame around the door. He pulled the bed frame back further, ensuring the springs were stretched to their limit.

Now, all he had to do was wait. Ideally, one or both of the thugs would notice the water dripping down through the wall to the lower level, call the Suit from his office, and all three would race upstairs to check on him. It wasn't long before he heard them pounding up the stairs. He waited another 10 seconds and was rewarded with the voices outside the door, arguing about whose fault it was and who had the key – basically, the typical verbal interaction between two thugs.

Mac had no idea where the Suit was but he couldn't wait any longer if this plan was going to work.

He let the bed frame go, watching it snap to the door with an enormous crash, knocking the two thugs down – and, hopefully, out – in the process!

Not wasting another minute, Mac half ran, half stumbled out the door and down the stairs. He heard a commotion from the office and slipped behind some storage boxes. The Suit came out at a run, heading straight for the staircase. Mac waited until he heard the footsteps directly in front of him, then shoved the boxes down on top of the well-dressed villain, praying that at least some of them were heavy enough to do some damage.

Unable to afford the time to check on his well-constructed carnage, MacGyver ran for the front door and barreled his way through it, falling off the small platform outside and onto the pavement.

He was about to run down the sadly empty street but noticed the car parked beneath a street light, directly in front of the building he'd just exited. Deciding that he had to take the time in this instance, he opened the hood of the car and tore out as many tubes and wires crucial to the car's operation as he could and tossed some into a nearby drain, dividing the rest between two dumpsters.

With that done, he took off in no particular direction. Running purely on instinct and searching only for Jack. Because instinct told him that Jack meant safety. It always had.

* * *

Jay and his little brother, Toby, headed back home from the pier with not one but two large fish in their tackle box. They had actually caught more than that but had no way of keeping them fresh and also didn't want to be greedy, so they gave the others away to some of their friends at the pier. At close to nine-thirty, it was going to be a late supper but that was okay. They'd gotten used to eating on no particular schedule – just whenever food was available. _If_ food was available. And tonight? They were definitely in for a good feast.

All thanks to that stranger on the docks. What did he say his name was? MacGyver? Yeah, that was it. Jay had no idea why the guy had helped them. He'd looked like a pretty put together guy. Not flashy but not scruffy, either.

In Jay's experience, no one helped anyone without wanting something in return – especially the put together types. But, hey, he wasn't gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Toby wasn't going to go to bed with an empty stomach tonight. Neither of them were. For that, Jay would be forever grateful.

Still, he didn't like owing someone.

On the way home, Toby watched the ground for gum wrappers or any other shiny object he could find. He'd already gathered a handful of pop can tabs, discarded or lost charms and pendants, and, of course, the now famous foil gum wrapper.

Jay couldn't help but smile at the kid's eagerness and delight every time he found something shiny. "Will this work, Jay? Will it, will it?" Each time, Jay would examine the item with the same kind of delight, sometimes feigned, sometimes genuine, and then tell him honestly if he thought it would work as a lure or not.

Just as he was about to examine another 'treasure' that Toby had discovered, something caught his eye across the street. At first glance, the guy looked like just another junky, stumbling out of an alley, doubled over in pain, looking for his next fix. But the brown leather jacket had Jay doing a double-take.

Same jacket, same chinos, same dark blue shirt. The blond hair was mussed but also looked quite similar. Was that… ?

"Jay, look! It's MacGyver!" Toby had seen him, too. Great. The kid was even bouncing up and down with glee. Then they watched the guy stumble to the ground and struggle back to his feet. "What's wrong with him, Jay?"

"I don't know," the teen admitted, wanting to check it out more closely but not wanting to put Toby in any kind of danger. He couldn't leave him alone but he also didn't want to risk taking him with him. Deciding it would be best to keep him close, regardless of the situation, he said, "Okay, come on, but stay behind me. Deal?"

Toby nodded.

The amount of trust his little brother put in him sometimes humbled Jay to no end. He took the small hand in his and, keeping an eye out for traffic or, worse, cops, they started across the street toward the formerly well-dressed guy, who was now leaning against a car to keep from landing face first on the ground.

"Hey, uh, MacGyver, are you okay?"

The guy looked at him like he didn't know him from Adam but the bruises on his face were what gave Jay pause.

"We met this afternoon, remember? You helped me an' my brother catch a fish for supper."

MacGyver looked like he was trying desperately to recall but nothing was coming to him.

"Oh man, you're really messed up, aren't ya'? What are you on?" He was just getting ready to write the dude off as a lost cause, when he felt a tug on his shirt. He looked down at Toby and saw the pleading gaze, the one he could never refuse. _Aw, man._

"Help him, Jay."

Even with The Look, the teen hesitated. Did he want to get himself and Toby involved in whatever criminal activity this guy was tangled up in. If the cops caught wind of it, they'd surely send he and Toby to Child Protective Services. They'd be separated. Maybe he was being selfish but Jay just couldn't let that happen. Without Toby, he'd be...

"Jay, we owe him," Toby insisted.

With a sigh, Jay handed the tackle box to his little brother, then draped MacGyver's arm over his shoulders. Keeping his hand clasped around the wrist at his shoulder, he wrapped his other arm around the man's waist. "Hold onto me, squirt. And stay close." He smiled when he felt Toby's hand latch onto the waistband of his jeans at the hip. To MacGyver, he muttered, "Haven't you ever heard the saying 'Just say 'no'?"

* * *

Between the two of them, Jay and Toby managed to fold MacGyver through the small hidden door leading into their building, past their homemade burglar alarm, which MacGyver seemed to eye with interest, and up the stairs.

The small apartment consisted of one room. A wood stove stood in the corner, a tiny square card table in the center. Against one wall lay an old mattress with two pillows. Even so, the place was pretty clean. The floor had been swept, the table was unsoiled. The mattress was definitely old and used but this one at least looked critter-free.

A bit more coherent now, MacGyver hedged a guess. "You two live here?" he asked.

"Yeah," Toby answered. "Jay found it for us! Isn't it awesome!?"

The teen actually blushed at the praise from his brother. "Why don't you get the frying pan out, Toby." To MacGyver he asked, "Are you hungry?"

MacGyver thought about it for a minute and was surprised to discover that he actually was a little hungry. "I could eat," he answered.

Jay was happy when Mac offered to help by cleaning the fish. He'd never tell Toby but that was the part he disliked the most. The poor defenseless fish staring up at him accusingly. Jay handed MacGyver the knife, then moved over to the stove to help Toby.

"So, where are your parents," Mac asked gently.

Jay remained quiet but Toby was very forthcoming with information. "We ran away."

"Toby," Jay quietly admonished, nudging his brother's shoulder gently.

"What," Toby asked, not sure why Jay was upset.

MacGyver gave it another minute, then decided to push a bit further. "Why did you run?"

"Our dad used to beat up on Jay. When he started on me, Jay grabbed me and we booked."

Though his heart broke at the story, Mac couldn't help but grin at Toby using the phrase he had likely heard his big brother using. Thinking of his own father, he realized how badly things could have gone if his dad had been abusive. It was true, he'd abandoned him but at least he'd left him in the care of his grandfather who loved him. And neither his dad or his grandfather had ever raised a hand to him in that way.

"We're not going back," Jay told him firmly, interrupting Mac's train of thought. "You can't make us."

MacGyver raised his hands in supplication. "That's not why I asked. I work for this… organization that maybe can help –"

"We don't need your help," Jay insisted.

"Jay – "

"No, Toby, we don't need anyone coming in and separating us. I got my GED," he told MacGyver. "Eventually, I'll get a job and save up enough money to pay for a real apartment."

"Wouldn't you like to go to college?"

"I can't do that _and_ take care of Toby. I choose Toby. Every time."

"But what if – " MacGyver's words broke off abruptly as he was hit by an onslaught of pain. The knife fell to the floor and he doubled over in agony.

Jay was instantly at his side but he wasn't sure what to do. With no other option, he decided to do what he'd done for Toby on the occasions when the kid got sick – he wrapped his arm over the man's shoulders and pulled him close, doing his best to help him work through the pain.

"Jay," Toby cried, "what's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," the teen answered. He could feel the heat emanating off the guy, though. "Grab that cloth and wet it with cold water, Toby."

The eight-year-old rushed to comply.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N I am seriously overwhelmed by all the amazing reviews on this story! Thank you all so much! I hope this chapter meets up with your expectations!_

MacGyver wasn't sure how long the episode had lasted but he woke up stretched out on the mattress. He watched through half open eyes as Jay and Toby spoke in hushed tones over by the door.

"We have to get him to a doctor," Toby insisted.

"How, Toby? There's no way I can carry him. And, if I bring a doctor here, they'll separate us. You know that."

"I may have a solution," MacGyver offered weakly. Finally feeling a bit of his strength returning, he smirked when Jay and Toby both jumped at the sound of his voice.

"We thought you were asleep," Jay admitted, chagrined. "What's your solution?"

"I have a friend you can call. His name's Jack. He can come here and get me."

"And he won't separate us?"

Mac shook his head against the pillow. "No, he won't. Neither of us will."

"Promise?" Toby asked quietly, reaching up and grabbing his big brother's hand in his own.

MacGyver flashed back to the moment on the plane when he'd asked the same question, in a very similar tone, when Jack said he'd be with him every step of the way. The loneliness hit hard as he wished with all his heart that his friend would be able to keep that same vow just one last time. "I promise," he said thickly, happy that the kids were too far away to see the tear slide down into the pillow.

"Okay, how do we reach him?"

"You got a cell phone?"

Jay looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "We look like we can afford amenities to you?"

"Sorry," MacGyver said, having the good grace to blush at his error.

"But if you want us to call your friend, there's a pay phone just down the street from here," Toby offered eagerly.

"Perfect," Mac said, voice a little breathy again. The Suit had taken his phone and for the first time that he could remember, no pun intended, his memory was failing him, but he finally managed to give the boys Jack's number to call. Jay didn't have a piece of paper handy but seemed to memorize it almost immediately.

' _This kid was kinda starting to remind me of myself at that age. Quick on his feet? Check. Good memory? Check. Surly attitude? Definite check.'_

"Okay," Jay clarified, "we call this Jack character and then what?"

It was MacGyver's turn to give them a look of confusion as he sagged into the mattress. Funny how having a simple conversation took so much out of him.

"How do we recognize him when we see him?"

' _Moment of truth. How was I going to describe my best friend to these two kids. Then I remembered when we'd been trying to find Riley the Christmas before and her computer hacker friend had compared Jack to…"_

"You guys ever seen a Kewpie Doll before?"

The arched eyebrows were answer enough. Okay, that would be a 'no'. Who else could he compare…

He offered an exhausted smile – his energy was ebbing fast. "How about… Calvin from the… Calvin and… Hobbes comic… books?" He really hoped Jack would get there soon. He couldn't very well tell these kids that he'd been poisoned. And he certainly wasn't going to let them come with him to confront the Suit. But he also knew he wasn't going to have the strength to get the antidote on his own. And – he glanced at the watch on his wrist – he was running out of time.

' _Jay was already a little curious about the countdown watch on my wrist. But Toby? I had a little more than an hour left. How was I supposed to explain to an eight-year-old that, without an antidote, I could… Heck, I couldn't even admit it to myself.'_

Mac was brought back to the conversation when he heard both boys chuckle. "He looks like Calvin?" Jay asked with a smirk.

MacGyver paused for a moment, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty because he was being unfair to his friend. Contrary to popular belief, Jack was much more than just lame puns and spiky hair. "Not exactly," he finally said. "Think… Captain America but with… Calvin's hair."

This description got a nod of approval from Jay and Mac smiled, realizing he had just come up with the perfect description of his best friend.

Energy dwindling fast, MacGyver sank further into the mattress and closed his eyes, only to have a sudden thought jolting him awake again. "Just don't tell him I said that," he told the boys as they were closing the door. Jay smirked again but nodded his understanding. He knew all about keeping up appearances. Toby, on the other hand… well, he was already out in the hall and, likely, halfway down the stairs.

* * *

The phone call came in a few minutes after 11 o'clock Friday night. Just when Jack was falling into his own version of despair at not having found MacGyver yet. And, for Jack, giving into the misery would involve going to a local watering hole and picking a few fights. Not good for the locals.

He pulled the rental car over to the side of the road to answer, not trusting himself to have enough control of his faculties to talk on the phone and drive at the same time.

From the other end of the line, a kid told him that Mac was alive but needed him. Badly. That was all Jack needed to hear. He jotted the address down quickly on the palm of his hand, then started up the car and pulled back out into the street.

* * *

Jack made quick work of finding a parking spot and jumped out of the car, surprised to have two boys instantly striding towards him.

"You're Jack," the older of the two said. It wasn't a question but Jack nodded anyway. Because it really should've been a question, shouldn't it? Unless, Mac had his phone and showed them a photo. Which, if that was the case, why hadn't he called Jack on his own?

Jack's head hurt with all this back and forth of ideas. He was tired. He was pretty sure some of the drugs from his stay at the hospital were still in his system. Besides, bouncing ideas off each other was one of the things Jack enjoyed most about his and MacGyver's partnership. Mac had all the geeky science ideas, and Jack had the tactical ideas, but it worked. _They_ worked. And, right now, the ideas going around solely in Jack's own head only served to highlight the fact that Mac wasn't with him.

The smaller boy stared up at Jack with a calculating gaze as they walked down an alley filled with dumpsters and poor lost souls with nowhere else to go. Was that what these two kids were? Lost souls with nowhere to go? That thought gave him a heavy heart.

"What?" Jack asked the young boy, unable to take the suspense any longer but also not sure he wanted to know.

"Yup," the kid said with a decisive nod. "MacGyver was right. You do look like Captain America with a Calvin haircut."

Jack's eyebrows rose almost to his hair line.

"Toby," the teen hissed at him. "We weren't supposed to tell him that."

"Why not?" Toby asked with wide eyed innocence.

He didn't have to ask who the kid meant by Calvin, those comic books were MacGyver's favourite. But Jack decided to latch onto the complimentary part of the statement, instead. "Captain America, huh. Mac said that? Really?"

Toby nodded eagerly. "Uh-huh," he confirmed. He glanced up at Jay, then back at Jack. "But shhhh," he said, placing a finger over his lips and speaking conspiratorially. "Don't tell him we told you."

"We?" Jay muttered. "It was just you. There was no 'we' involved, little brother."

Jack leaned down to the smaller boy, winking mischievously. "Your secret is safe with me," he said. _Until Mac and I are airborne again and headed home, that is,_ he added silently.

* * *

Shortly after the kids left, MacGyver had fallen asleep but was woken up by another wave of immense pain. The Suit hovered over him with another syringe. "Have you made your decision, MacGyver?" The face abruptly dissolved into El Noche, and the accent changed to match – "Have you made your decision, MacGyver?" – except, instead of the syringe, it was the nitrogen mask descending toward him.

MacGyver threw himself back on the mattress, his shoulders slamming into the wall. He cried out in agony, curling in on himself which only caused more pain to shoot across his still healing ribs.

* * *

The boys had just led Jack through the tiny opening on the bottom floor of the building. Jack showed blatant, honest admiration for their burglar alarm – various silverware and trinkets tied together, sort of like a mobile you'd find above a baby's crib except this one was designed to make lots of racket to announce any uninvited guests! His appreciation was interrupted when he heard the tortured cry from upstairs. Jay and Toby looked at each other, then ran up the stairs with Jack close on their heels. He ignored the twinge of pain in his leg because he instinctively knew who that cry belonged to – he just _knew_.

Jack followed the boys into a small, dingy apartment and slid to a halt when he caught sight of MacGyver writhing on the bed across the room. He raced over to his side, simultaneously wanting to touch but not sure _where_ to touch. The bruises on his face were stark against the astonishingly pale skin, and the restraint marks on his wrists were no less alarming!

Jack reached out to grip his friend's shoulder, dismayed when the younger man cringed away from him. He tried to keep his voice soothing when he spoke, "Mac? Buddy? Can you hear me? It's me, Jack." But, instead of calming down, the eyes that stared back at him were terrified.

"No, don' touch me… y're bein' par'noid… no, no… no more nitr'gen… please… Noche, I c'n explain…"

Noche. _El_ Noche? The kid was flashing back to El Noche? Based on his almost unlimited knowledge of everything MacGyver, Jack was pretty confident that what his young friend was saying was a mixture of what he said to his captors for the purpose of keeping his cover and his inner dialogue - all the fears and insecurities Mac kept hidden deep, even from Jack.

When he wasn't going crazy with fever and hallucinations, anyway.

"J'ck, wh're ar' y'u?"

The last shook Jack to his core. Because the reason he could only _assume_ what was actual dialogue and what was internal was painfully simple… Jack _hadn't been there_! Not in time to stop the torture.

Memories of that day still gave Jack nightmares. Mac had given one lopsided smile, then collapsed to the floor. Those had been some of the scariest moments of Jack's life, performing CPR, breathing life into the young man he had come to think of more as a son, until the field doc had made it in from the helicopter with a defibrillator and oxygen mask. Even then, they'd had to physically pull Jack away from his life saving efforts before he'd realized that help had arrived. If Jack had been two seconds later, MacGyver would've either been killed by the goon aiming a gun at him point blank, or by drowning on dry land.

Forcing himself back to the present, focusing intently on the signs of restraint, as well as the puncture mark on the inside of Mac's elbow, Jack knew he'd need to do some more saving very, very soon. Especially, if the digital count down on the kid's wrist was any indication – and there was no way THAT could possibly be a good thing.

But, before he could find out what had happened to his friend, he had to take care of the obvious fall out. Which was MacGyver's various emotional and physical pain compartments crashing down around him. With no other option, he slipped one arm below the quaking shoulders and levered MacGyver up so that he could slide onto the bed beneath him. With one leg on either side of his friend, he leaned the disturbingly feverish body back against his chest.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked the kids, voice a bit more harsh than he'd intended.

"Since just before we called you," Jay said, easing Toby behind him in the wake of Jack's wrath. "He wouldn't tell us what was wrong. He just told us to get you and that you would fix everything."

Toby slipped away from his brother unnoticed and grabbed the cloth from the table. He stepped over to the sink and held the cloth under the cold water again, then handed it over to Jack, hesitant but determined. Jack forced his voice to gentle. "Thank you," he said, accepting the cloth and running it over Mac's fevered face and neck.

MacGyver looked up at him, confused. "Jack?"

"Yeah, buddy, I'm right here," Jack whispered, happy to finally see the recognition in the tear-filled gaze.

At first, relief shone in those blue eyes, but it was quickly replaced by shame. With a pained moan, MacGyver pulled away from him, trying to crawl to the other end of the bed, but Jack just hauled him back and folded him in closer, placing his chin on top of the damp blond hair. The soft whimper revealed so much. Mac was fighting to hold in the pain. For the sake of the kids, no doubt.

Ah, who was Jack trying to fool, MacGyver was trying to bear the agony on his own for Jack's sake, too.

Regardless, with the boys standing just on the other side of the room, staring in awe at one adult male not ashamed to give comfort and affection to another, Jack couldn't even convince Mac to let go this time by telling him it was just the two of them. He knew it was the kids' apartment – and what was that all about, anyway? – but he couldn't help but wish he and his young friend were alone.

He carefully angled MacGyver's quivering form so that his head rested in the crook of his elbow, pain filled gaze looking up at him – and dang if there wasn't still some shame overpowering the pain. "What happened, Mac?"

Jack could see MacGyver trying to make sense of his question. Sweat dripped down his face, along with probably a few tears but Jack wasn't about to call attention to that. Not yet, anyway. So, without a word, he gently wiped both away with the cool cloth as he waited for the answer to his question.

"Poison," MacGyver whispered.

This threw Jack for a loop. Poison? All right, worst case scenario then. "The List," Jack inferred. "Was the hand-off staged? Was it all a set up?" The former Delta Force Commando was even more ready to crush a few heads together now.

The kid – Jack's kid, not the two apparent runaways – was struggling to string words together. "N-no," he stammered. "They got me… after the meet. S-sorry, Jack."

Before Jack could respond, the burglar alarm downstairs announced the arrival of some of those previously mentioned uninvited guests, forks and spoons and butter knives jangling loudly against each other. "Nothing to apologize for, kiddo," he whispered, folding the blond in closer again as his dark gaze moved about the room in search of some form of escape.

"MacGyver," an accented voice called out, tauntingly. "We know you are here, MacGyver. Have you made your decision? I am getting impatient and may just toss your antidote based on principle alone."

 _Antidote?_ This relieved Jack but the mocking tone enraged him to no end. He looked down at the blond in his arms. "How many?"

"Three – a Suit… and two thugs who're… even bigger… than you," MacGyver told him. Then he grabbed the front of Jack's shirt with one hand, grip surprisingly strong. "Thirty… minutes, Jack."

Jack glanced down at the digital countdown on his friend's wrist and nodded, placing his own hand over top of Mac's. "It's okay, I've got a plan. Just trust me, okay?"

That seemed to be enough for MacGyver, as he released his fistful of Jack's t-shirt and relaxed somewhat, shoulder pressing more firmly into the broad chest, head hung low with exhaustion.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N 1 Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews, favourites, and follows! Honestly, your reviews are my motivation for posting so quickly. I hope this one once again lives up to expectations. :-) Please, let me know? *wink*_

 _A/N 2 I know these chapters seem to be getting shorter and shorter. Sorry about that. :-( I'm just trying to end each one on a cliffie. :-) One chapter left, I think. Unless, I think of some way to extend it. I'm kind of enjoying writing this one quite a bit. :-)_

Jack looked at the kids, who were now wide eyed with fear. "Is there another way outta this place?" he whispered.

Jay nodded. "The back stairs."

Astonished, Jack could do nothing more than watch as Mac hauled himself to his feet. If he could get downstairs on his own steam, Jack was all for letting him. No need to embarrass the kid any more than completely necessary. "Okay, come on," he said, standing up next to MacGyver. He wrapped his friend's arm over his shoulders, then his own arm carefully around the slim waist and did his best to match the shuffling gate and speed.

' _Jack was doing his best to help me_ _but it was taking too long and we both knew it. I couldn't let Jack_ _and_ _two innocent kids die because of me. It was time for me to accept the inevitable.'_

Mac looked at the boys, then turned his eyes to Jack, communicating silently what he knew had to be.

"Not a chance," Jack told him, leaving absolutely no room for argument. "I told you, I have a plan. And it don't involve you dyin'!"

MacGyver's gaze turned sympathetic, fully aware of how difficult leaving him behind would be for a man as extraordinarily loyal as Jack. "This is the… only way," the blond gasped out. "You… know that. Don't worry… I'll figure some…thing out. I always… do."

"Maybe you didn't hear me," Jack gruffly replied. "It ain't happenin', brother!"

The thugs were making a racket searching downstairs but, any time now, they'd be moving their search to the second floor. Mac's gaze returned to the boys. They'd just been trying to help him, he couldn't let them be punished for it. "Jack… I don't see any oth – "

"I do," Jack interjected forcefully, turning around and flipping the mattress up on its side and leaning it against the wall. He turned to the boys, handing Jay a fistful of change. "You two, take those backstairs and go call for help."

"But – " Jay began.

Jack interrupted him. "No buts, kid. You run and don't stop until you reach a phone or a police station or something. You hear me? This ain't your fight, guys." Glancing from MacGyver to Jack and back again, Jay still looked unsure. Torn. "Think of your brother," Jack told him, which instantly brought the teen's gaze down to the eight-year-old standing next to him, who was staring up at Mac, eyes threatening to overflow. "You're all he's got in this world and he needs you to keep him safe," he added, casting a glance to MacGyver who heard the subtext all too clearly.

Jay nodded. He deposited the coin in his pocket, lifted Toby up in his arms, and ran out the door.

"Jack – " MacGyver began.

"I don't wanna hear it, Mac. I am not leaving you behind and that's that."

Mac had the good sense to drop the subject, accepting Jack's devotion with a small smile. "So… what's… the plan?"

Taking MacGyver by the shoulders, Jack steered him over to the mattress, pulling it back from the wall and looking at Mac expectantly.

"We can't… just hide… from these guys… Jack. They're not gonna… just give up."

"You're right. _We_ can't. But _you_ can."

Confused, MacGyver looked at the mattress, then studied Jack carefully. Recognizing the intention in the deep brown eyes, he backed away from the mattress so quickly that he stumbled and would have fallen if Jack hadn't reached out to catch him. "No, Jack... No way!"

"Well, you see, Mac, I hate to tell you this, brother, but you don't have a say in the matter." As he spoke, he manhandled the blond back to stand behind the mattress. Seeing the panicked look on MacGyver's face, not to mention the all too genuine concern, Jack hooked an arm around the slim shoulders and eased him forward. Mac didn't return the embrace but he didn't pull away, either. "I'm gonna be fine, buddy. I promise."

"But… I could… help," MacGyver insisted, voice muffled a bit by Jack's shoulder.

Jack chuckled softly, pulling away enough to achieve eye contact but keeping one hand on the back of MacGyver's neck. "Normally, I would agree with you, Mac. You know, there's no one I would rather have my back than you. But what I told Jay about protecting Toby, that's what we do for each other. You an' me, brother. It just happens to be my turn this time. Now, you hunker down here, and I'm gonna go get that antidote for ya'. Okay?"

MacGyver nodded, gritting his teeth against the emotions coursing through him as Jack took the digital watch off his wrist and slipped it onto his own. It was as he turned away from him and headed for the door that Mac couldn't keep silent any longer. "Jack… "

' _To be completely honest, at first I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted to say. Be careful? Stay safe?... Don't go?'_

His friend turned to offer a thumbs up and a smile. "Me too," Jack told him sincerely, reading his mind once again.

' _And there it was. The phrase Jack and I rarely voiced to one another, but always somehow knew, had once again been said without the actual use of words.'_

"I'll be back," he tacked on in a truly horrible Austrian accent, and Mac couldn't help but feel that was going to be the last time he heard one of Jack's awful impressions or one of his less-than-talented vocal attempts at Karaoke, or had to put up with the incessant puns. With nothing else to do, knowing that he really would just slow Jack down, MacGyver did as he was told and eased himself down onto the floor, pulling the mattress back to block any view of him from the doorway.

' _Are you ready for another bit of honesty? I really do love the big guy.'_

* * *

Jack made his way toward the front stairs, still hearing the noises of the agents or thugs - or whatever they were - carelessly throwing things aside on the lower level. No longer needing to keep up appearances for MacGyver, he was able to acknowledge the true terror pumping through his veins. He wasn't afraid of these goons he was about to mop up the floor with, though. He was terrified because he could actually lose Mac this time. Jack had come close to losing the kid before, of course, but never _this_ close. He glanced at the digital readout on his arm – 20 minutes. If Jack failed this mission, Mac would actually _die!_

Yeah, that just was _so_ _not_ an option. The voice sounded from down below again, taunting MacGyver with the antidote, then…

"Perhaps, I should send one of my men to the hospital to visit poor Jack Dalton. What do you think, MacGyver? Would that be a good idea?"

This guy was seriously making Jack's blood boil. Unfortunately for these dudes, that meant the terror coursing through him was fast replaced by a Delta Commando-type rage – calm, controlled, and calculated. He almost felt sorry for them because they had no idea how important MacGyver was to Jack; no idea that he had long ago come to think of the kid more as a son than just a friend. He loved him and the thought of losing him scared Jack so badly that the blood that had previously been brought to a rapid boil quickly ran ice cold.

He took his Beretta out of its holster at his side and started down the stairs. It was time to go postal – or, rather, Commando – on these guys.

* * *

Mac had been crouched behind the mattress for what he figured to be almost 10 minutes and no one had come up to find him. The last thing he'd heard was the Suit threatening to send someone to the hospital to visit (read: kill) Jack. MacGyver was relieved that Jack was here with him instead of being an unsuspecting patient lying in a hospital bed. At least, he knew what he was up against here. And he was fully dressed and armed. Just one gun today but one was certainly better than none.

Unfortunately, MacGyver was having a difficult time deciding whether the lack of activity was a good thing or a bad thing. Curiosity and concern for Jack got the better of him. He just couldn't risk a loss of that magnitude. He'd been so certain he'd lost him on the plane, in the hospital, now this. It was getting to be too much for even Mac's compartmentalized psyche to take. Besides, he was actually feeling a lot better. His body still ached and he was exhausted but the sharp, shooting pain had dissipated, as had the difficulty breathing. Granted, it was more than likely the calm before the storm but, if that was the case, it only placed even more urgency on him getting off his sorry butt and trying to find Jack now. Because, when the storm hit, Mac had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't be getting back up from it.

Decision made, he got out from behind the mattress, half expecting one of the thugs from earlier to be lying in wait. Thankfully, his expectations were dashed and he was alone in the room. Slowly finding his feet, MacGyver tested out his muscle response time. No point setting out to help Jack if he was just going to end up being a hindrance.

Having passed his self-examination, Mac proceeded across the room and, after ensuring the corridor was empty, out the door. He knew Jack had turned right, heading to the front of the building, but instinct told him to take the back stairs. Knowing better than to fight against his gut, MacGyver turned left, scanning his surroundings for anything he might be able to use along the way.

As he made his way down the hallway, he passed other apartments, each grungier than the last, and came to be even further impressed with the way Jay and Toby had kept their apartment so clean in comparison.

The thought of the boys added even more dread to his heart. He prayed the kids had gotten out of the building okay. He hadn't meant to bring all this down on them. When they'd found him, he'd barely been able to remember his own name, let alone anything about what had happened. And, by the time he did remember, he was in no condition to leave. His only hope had been that Jack would be able to get there before his attackers and, possibly, murderers were able to find him. And he _had_ gotten there in time. Unfortunately, MacGyver had been in even worse shape than before and had been unable to pull himself together fast enough. Even now, just jogging down the hall was enough to make him want to sleep for a week. But he'd take exhaustion over excruciating pain any day!

His mind wandered back to Jay and Toby. The circumstances that had driven them from their home, away from their parents, had been heartbreaking to say the least.

As usual, while these thoughts ran through his mind, Mac continued to keep an eye out for any tools that could help him help Jack. He found a long iron pole lying next to one wall, seemingly discarded by a maintenance worker before the building had been left to fall apart with no further intervention from the super and/or landlord. He absently grabbed that and continued on toward the backstairs. The next item he came across for his arsenal was an aerosol can of bug spray, abandoned in one of the apartments.

' _There's a definite pun in there somewhere but my brain is way too tired to put it together, right now. Besides, that's Jack's department. I'll have to remember to ask him about it later… because there is definitely going to be a later. Losing Jack just wasn't an option. Not today. Not ever.'_

Mac didn't bother checking to see if the bugs the can was purchased for were still taking up residence in the apartment because he knew they likely were. From what he'd seen so far, Jay and Toby's apartment was the only one that didn't seem to have laid out the red carpet for every critter within a three block radius.

He almost bypassed it but his peripheral vision caught it at the last second. He snatched the Zippo lighter up off the floor without breaking his stride. Giving it a shake, he was surprised to find it still had some fluid in it. Not much, but certainly enough for what he had in mind. He hoped.

Energy depleting once again, MacGyver stopped to place one hand on the railing leading up to the staircase. He used the opportunity to peek down to the lower level but was unable to see anything that told him one way or the other if Jack was okay. Fear and adrenaline got him moving again.

As he started down the steps, moving faster because he was afraid of what he might find, he continued to distract himself with thoughts of the kids whom he'd come to care about faster than he ever would have imagined.

It had been an off-the-cuff idea at first, but maybe the Foundation really _could_ do something to help Jay and Toby. Mac certainly couldn't bear the idea of the boys staying in this rattrap any longer. Regardless of their apartment being cleaner than the rest, it still was much less than ideal living conditions. And, if the Foundation couldn't do anything, than maybe MacGyver could on his own. He wouldn't be able to adopt them, not at his age and single, and certainly not while he was in this line of work, but surely he could figure something out.

He laughed bitterly to himself. Here he was making plans for the future and he didn't even know if he would _have_ a future!

BANG!

The sound of the gunshot had him skidding to a halt, barely able to grab hold of the railing in time to prevent himself from tumbling down the stairs. Frozen with the fear of the unknown. Because that bullet was too far away to have been meant for him and he had no idea where Jack was!

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N So, it's after midnight here and I am yawning like crazy, but I had to get this posted. Partly because I told a few people I would, and partly because I love waking up to all of your wonderful reviews! What a way to start the day! :-) Thank you again for all the favourites, follows, and reviews! I hope you enjoy this latest installment. Should be wrapping it up in the next chapter - don't worry, Jay and Toby will make another appearance. :-)_

Adrenaline pumping through his veins now, MacGyver took the stairs two at a time, heedless of whether or not it was safe to do so, only thinking _Jack, Jack, Jack._

At the bottom of the staircase, he looked left, then right. No one was in sight and all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing. Forcing himself to take measured breaths, through the nose, he listened closely for anything that might tell him where his friend was. There. A grunt of pain. It sounded like it had come from a closed apartment door just a few feet away from him. His heart stuttered at the sight of blood on the doorknob, and he hesitated to touch it. But he needed to in order to open the door to see what and, more importantly, who was on the other side.

Taking a fortifying breath, this time through the mouth to keep the scent of the blood from accumulating in his nostrils because scent memory could be very strong and if Jack was the one who had been…

' _Okay, I will admit that I tend to ramble when I get nervous. And I change the subject when I'm approaching a topic I don't want to discuss. I don't ramble often, but I change the subject on a regular basis for various reasons. In this case, I was simply not willing to continue any train of thought for which the destination might be Jack's funeral. Jack was indestructible. Maybe not the Calvin part of him, but definitely the Captain America part.'_

Clinging to the knowledge that Jack truly was a superhero, Mac covered the doorknob with his shirt first, then gripped it with his hand, turning it ever so slowly. He winced as the doorknob, then the hinges, creaked loudly, quite possibly announcing his presence to the bad guys. Too late to do anything about that now.

His heart pounded in his ears as he eased the door open, his view of the apartment on the other side of the threshold increasing incrementally, until he found the source of the noise curled up on his side at the other side of the room. The only light in the room came from the meager lighting in the building corridor and MacGyver could only see the guy's back, so there was no way of knowing for sure if it was Jack or not. Not yet, anyway.

' _Part of me didn't want to move closer to the man. I know what you're thinking, if it_ _is_ _Jack, he's going to need immediate medical attention. But, right now, the not knowing was safer than the knowing. It was basically a Schrodinger's cat paradox. As long as I didn't know if it was Jack or not, then this injured person was both Jack and not Jack. Okay, maybe it doesn't make complete sense right now but, come on, my best friend might be dying right in front of me. Again.'_

It felt like hours but was actually only two or three seconds before Mac crept over that threshold and made his way over to the form curled up on the grimy tile floor. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until he saw the face of Thug Number Three staring up at him, face sweaty and pained. The guy immediately reached for him, probably beseechingly but Mac jumped back anyway. After all, you can never be too careful when dealing with one of the guys who beat and poisoned you. He didn't want the guy to die but he had himself a best friend to find. "Sorry," MacGyver said, mostly meaning it. This guy being down meant Jack was the one who shot him, and _that_ meant that it was either Jack or the Thug. And, if given the choice, Mac would choose Jack any day of the week.

God help him, Mac was actually _glad_ to find Thug Number Three with an extra hole in his body… because that meant the gunshot he'd heard earlier had not resulted in Jack Dalton's possible death.

Retracing his steps back to the staircase, MacGyver saw a door at the end of the hall, a red EXIT sign above it. It was behind the stairs, which was why he hadn't seen it the first time. He heard voices coming from the other side of that door. One voice Mac would know anywhere… Jack!

He raced over to the door, only to have Mr. Brass Knuckles step out of the shadows and block his path. How a guy that size managed to hide anywhere, let alone in a small dimly lit hallway, Mac had no idea. He involuntarily took a step back as the mountain walked towards him.

' _Apparently, the mountain really could come to Mohammad. Or, well, MacGyver… *sigh* Have I mentioned that puns are Jack's department? There really is a reason for that.'_

MacGyver mentally reviewed the items he had with him, his brain working sluggishly after the ordeal of the past seven hours or so. The iron pole might work but Mac would have to put a lot of distance between him and the mountain in order to have any chance at success, and there just wasn't enough time for a game of cat and mouse. Not one of that magnitude, anyway. So, to free up his hands, he slowly knelt down on one knee to place the pole quietly on the floor, then stood up to his full height again – which really didn't make all that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things.

' _I had an idea. Only problem was I had to let Gigantor get super close in order for it to work.'_

As it turned out, Mr. Brass Knuckles was no longer wearing his armour of choice. So, he decided to work with what he had. Sort of like MacGyver does, except not. Mac mapped out his steps in his mind and intentionally backed himself into a wall. This was going to be dangerous but MacGyver didn't care. Jack was alive but Mac had no idea for how long.

' _The thing with bullies is, if they think they have you cornered, they get, well, cocky. And when they get cocky, they don't pay attention. And when they don't pay attention, people like me can get the upper hand.'_

This bully was no different as he reached out and wrapped his hands around MacGyver's neck, lifting his feet off the floor and raising him up toward the ceiling. Mac literally had to hunch his shoulders and crane his neck to the side to avoid returning to the second floor of the building the hard way. As he gasped for air, spots began dancing in his vision and he knew he didn't have much time. He couldn't help picturing the T-Rex Calvin was always conjuring up during math class, or when dealing with Moe, the cartoon character's own schoolyard bully. The sight of the T-Rex blurred, even as MacGyver dug into his pockets for the other items he had procured in the upstairs hallway. He had to work fast because he could feel his consciousness fading rapidly.

Closing his hands around the necessary items, Mac didn't waste another second. He raised the bug spray and zippo lighter up to be face level with the Thug, pushing down on the nozzle of the spray, then flicking the zippo open to expose flame to the chemical. The results were instantaneous as red hot fire shot into the face of Gigantor and Mac was promptly dropped to the floor. The man's scream was a much higher pitch than MacGyver would have expected and he took no pleasure in it when the guy even started to cry. Instead, he simply slipped past the hands grappling for purchase and raced for the door once again. He was stumbling as he tried to push back the darkness threatening to overtake him for just a little bit longer. Because he needed to get to Jack.

* * *

Jack was on his knees in the alleyway, hands in the air, looking up at the barrel of a gun aimed at his head. He wasn't proud of the fact that this scrawny Suit had gotten the drop on him but when he had heard the scream from the other side of that doorway, he'd feared the worst. He wouldn't have put it past Mac to come looking for him after hearing the gunshot, and he certainly couldn't blame the kid, but the idea of him getting hurt even worse than he already had been caused Jack's heart to plummet and his attention to shift. The Suit – as MacGyver so aptly called him – had seized the opportunity and thrown a handful of dirt and rocks into his face, then brought his knee up to connect (hard) with Jack's groin. Why did it seem like all these bad guys liked to fight dirty? Oh, yeah, because they always fought dirty!

"We both heard the scream, Mr. Dalton. There will be more if you don't give me the list right away."

Shrugging, Jack said, "MacGyver is the only one who knows where it is. You kill him, you lose your chance at achieving your objective."

The Suit pulled a small metal canister out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket with his free hand. "You seem to forget, Mr. Dalton. Without this antidote, I have already killed him."

Seeing the guy had called his bluff, Jack's gaze turned lethal. "That kid dies and you will be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, Skeletor."

"Oh yes, now you are going to tell me that every American agency will be looking for me, right?"

"No. Just me," Jack promised, voice hard as iron.

The Suit must have had some smarts because he faltered and actually looked scared for a minute before recovering quickly. "You are but one man, Mr. Dalton. But, tell me, I am curious… Why did you call me that name? Who is 'Skeletor'?"

A smile slowly grew on Jack's face. "Oh, you know, just a cartoon baddy that got his comeuppance every single week. And do you know why?"

"Okay, I will play along with you, Mr. Dalton, but only because you amuse me. Why did he get his," he paused to get the word right, "comeuppance every week?"

"Because every week he underestimated the hero of the show."

"And are you the hero of which you speak, Mr. Dalton?"

"Nope," Jack said, smile turning into a toothy grin and a twinkle forming in his eye. "See, I'm what most people would refer to as the sidekick, or the muscle."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, the hero of the show? That would definitely be my boy." He gazed up at the look of confusion on the other man's face, discreetly tensing for action. "MacGyver." He nodded his head in the direction over the Suit's shoulder.

The Suit laughed heartily in response. "I have seen those American movies as well, Mr. Dalton. I will not fall for your silly tricks. In fact, I think I will end this game now." He stepped closer to Jack, aiming point blank now. "I am getting bored."

His words were cut off by a feral cry of rage. He spun around to see MacGyver charging at him, iron pole raised over his shoulder. Before the Suit could react, the pole came down hard on his wrist. He cried out in pain. The gun clattered to the ground, followed quickly by the antidote – which rolled across the alleyway. Even in the whitewash from a nearby street light, both Mac and Jack could see the pavement grate directly in the path of the capsule. Both men dove across the alleyway but grasped only air in their outstretched hands as the capsule slipped between the bars on the grate and down into the storm drain. MacGyver grabbed a bar in each hand, already knowing that he wouldn't be able to remove the cover but trying anyway, barely noticing the choked sob that escaped at the same time.

Jack saw the devastation on his friend's face and he wanted nothing more than to hurt the cause of that devastation. He jumped to his feet and stalked over to the Suit, who was cradling his likely broken hand against him yet still smiling at his apparent victory. Jack delivered a powerhouse punch that would have made Chuck Liddell proud! The Suit went down and would be feeling no more pain for a while yet. Jack got to punch him, that's what mattered. And, bonus, handcuffs or zip ties were not needed to keep the guy immobilized. He returned to MacGyver's side. Lying down next to him on the pavement, he placed a hand on the tense shoulder and squeezed as he peered over Mac and into the storm drain. Darkness.

"Give me your phone?" Mac asked him, an odd tone to his voice.

Jack immediately handed it over and watched as Mac tapped and swiped his way through the phone.

"Why did you do that, Mac?"

MacGyver appeared honestly confused. "Do what?"

"Attack him like that! Are you crazy?"

"He was going to kill you, Jack!"

"And now he might have killed _you_! How am I supposed to live with that?!"

There was a pun in there somewhere. There just had to be. But Mac was too tired to figure it out. Still, he looked away from the pavement grate long enough to cast a withering glare on his friend, mainly because it was expected. Truth be told, he'd never been happier to hear one of his friend's puns.

Jack raised a hand to stop any protesting remarks. "Before you say anything, that one was unintentional!"

Mac shone the flashlight from Jack's phone down into the storm drain. He could feel Jack peering over his shoulder. The capsule was sticking out from between the trash and leaves. Well, what they thought was the capsule, anyway. That was a long way down.

A quick glance at the digital countdown showed two minutes remaining. "Okay," Jack suddenly said, "let's get this grate cover off, then I'll jump down and toss the antidote up to you."

MacGyver looked up at him, incredulous. "You were shot in the leg a week ago, Jack. Or have you forgotten? Because I certainly haven't!"

"Seriously, Mac? You're comparing my leg to your life? I can handle a little pain. What I can't handle is losing you."

"Besides," Mac continued, as if Jack hadn't said anything, "the grate is soldered onto the frame. We can't remove it. Which means you can't jump down."

"All right, well, there's gotta be another way."

"There isn't," MacGyver said. That time, Jack recognized the tone for what it was… defeated.

"No, no way, Mac!" Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him to his knees. He gripped the kid's shirt in his fists. "I am _not_ letting you give up on me, you hear me?" Jack shook him a bit to get his point across, then eyed the pole, discarded on the pavement. "Why don't you make a torch thing-y with that and we can un-solder it?"

"That would take too long, Jack – " MacGyver's expression changed abruptly as he scanned his surroundings.

Jack recognized that look. "What? What is it? Did I just have an idea?"

"Sort of," Mac allowed as he forced himself to his feet. He grabbed the pole, then moved over to a nearby fire hydrant.

Jack jumped when the kid started wailing on the hydrant with the pole. Slamming it, metal against metal. He cringed at the sound. "Come on, kid," he called out over the racket. "What'd the fire hydrant ever do to you?"

MacGyver actually grinned. "Nothing, except it…" CLANG! "…just might…" CLANG! "…save my life." CLANG! "I'm making…" CLANG! "…a magnet." CLANG! Panting with exertion, he took the pole over to the grate and slipped it between the bars.

Jack watched as the capsule stuck itself to the pole and Mac started to pull it up, only to have it fall back to the ground because MacGyver was shaking again. Whether the symptoms had returned or the shaking was due to fading adrenaline, Jack didn't know. And he didn't much care. "Let me give it a go," he said.

"My arm barely fits through, Jack. Yours wouldn't have a chance."

"Try again," Jack ordered, lying back down on the ground next to his friend. Mac did as he was told but his energy was depleting fast. Jack was able to reach through the grate far enough to place his steady grip on MacGyver's upper arm, halting the shakes.

Their tenacity and teamwork was rewarded a few seconds later with the metal capsule landing in Mac's hand. The kid rose to his knees again, opened the capsule and tipped it over. One tiny pill dropped into his palm and MacGyver popped it into his mouth without a second's hesitation. He fell back to the ground, or would have if Jack hadn't been there to catch him. They both looked at the digital read out on Jack's wrist as it counted down the final 15 seconds.

Mac had gotten the antidote in time. The relief came out of both men in the form of laughter as Jack hooked an arm around MacGyver's shoulders and pulled him over to lean against him. The blond was too thrilled to be alive to even realize that he should be embarrassed.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N Okay, so... not the final chapter, after all. LoL I went a bit further with this one than I had originally intended. I'd like to say the next installment will be the last but, I don't like being wrong twice in a row - I like to learn from my mistakes! hehe So, how about we just play it by ear. I can't see it being much longer but, then again, who knows where my muse will take me. ;-)_

As it turned out, Jay and Toby did in fact make it to a pay phone and called the police. The cavalry showed up with paramedics just a few minutes after Mac had taken the antidote. By the time all was said and done, MacGyver was unconsciously leaning more heavily into Jack. He was clearly at the end of his rope but the kid refused to go to the hospital. Jack huffed a laugh. No surprise there.

MacGyver hated hospitals.

Even though the paramedics said they were unable to find anything wrong with him, they still strongly suggested Mac return with them to the hospital, just until the lab was able to run their tests to ensure the poison was truly out of his system.

Jack agreed. MacGyver not so much.

Jack canted his head and the paramedics picked up on his request and stepped away to check on the other injured parties while Jack dealt with a stubborn, blond genius.

Seeming to just then realize that he was still pressed up against Jack's side, Mac pulled himself out from beneath the other man's arm. He would be able to plead his case a lot easier if he didn't appear so vulnerable. Thankfully, Jack didn't fight him because Mac wasn't at all sure that he'd have sufficient strength to fight the hold if he had.

Jack studied him with a critical eye and MacGyver averted his gaze, likely beginning to think perhaps he should have stayed where he was. "If we can find out what kind of poison was used, it might help us figure out who these guys are, or at least who they work for, before they're able to hurt anyone else."

It was a low blow tapping into Mac's tendency to put others before himself, and Jack knew it. But he had almost lost the kid once, no way was he going to take any unnecessary risks, especially now that the immediate danger was finally taken care of.

' _I had the sneaking suspicion that I was being played. But I also knew that Jack had a point. If the combination of chemicals was unique enough, and could be linked to another case, it could very well be as good as a fingerprint to catch the mastermind behind this whole thing…_ _before_ _he's able to do this to someone else. Someone who might not have a Jack on their side.'_

"Fine," the blond sighed. "But I am not staying overnight," he insisted.

"Don't make me promise that, Mac."

MacGyver considered him for a long moment, humbled to see the genuine concern and last remnants of fear in his friend's eyes. "Jack, I'm fine, really. But I get it, you need more than just my word on that. I just…"

"You just what?"

"I need sleep, man. It's been a long week."

Even though, Jack was pretty sure the last part of that statement was not intended to be voiced out loud, the honesty of the words, Mac finally acknowledging the fact that he wasn't indestructible, should have made Jack feel better. Only it didn't. All he could think was how exhausted the kid must be feeling for him to be willing to make that kind of admission. "Okay, how about this?" Jack began. "We get these friendly EMT's to take a vial of your blood to the hospital for tests, then we go back to the hotel room - the one that I booked and paid for, by the way, because you apparently found waiting room chairs to be oh-so-comfortable –"

"Trust me, I did _not_ find them comfortable," MacGyver interjected.

"My point, exactly," Jack pointed out. "I got us a penthouse suite at a place called…" he pulled out his phone to check the text confirming the reservation. "The Prince George Hotel because I thought you would want your privacy after whatever mess I got you out of –"

"Wait, you got 'us' a suite? How is that privacy?"

Jack gave him a lopsided grin as he gently hauled the kid to his feet. "Oh, you ain't gettin' that much privacy, brother. I spent hours lookin' for you, I'm not letting you out of my sight for at least a week."

"Great," MacGyver sighed, watching as Jack briefed the paramedics on the plan and gave them his cell number in case there was, in fact, a problem with the blood tests. After they extracted the necessary amount of blood from MacGyver's arm, Jack gently hauled him to his feet. He was not happy about Jack practically carrying him to a nearby patrol car but forced himself to allow it because it was better than doing a face plant on the floor of the alley, out here for everyone to see. He suddenly remembered the nightmare he'd had at the hospital and knew that the stress of the past week and a half would probably mean many more just like it assaulting his sleep for quite a while. So, he had to try one more time. "Are you sure we can't get separate rooms - " but before the question was completely out of his mouth, the snide remark was coming back at him...

"I could take you to the hospital, instead."

"No, no," Mac quickly back-pedaled. "Hotel suits me just fine." Then, after a brief hesitation, he added, "Thanks, Jack."

"Oh, don't thank me yet. I'm gonna have a doctor on speed dial. Anything feels hinky and – "

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," Jack told him as he leaned him up against the patrol car and opened the back door.

MacGyver allowed himself to be manhandled into the car, then he remembered something Jack had said… "Hinky?" he asked, smiling despite his exhaustion.

Jack returned the smile, then closed the door and trotted around to the other side of the car. He gave the Officer their destination, then hopped in next to MacGyver. Thankfully, the officer knew the place because Jack had no idea where it was.

MacGyver had once again failed to mention one teeny, tiny bit of information – his ribs were hurting again, probably due to the added torment of the past several hours. But Jack already knew about that injury, so (technically) nothing had been withheld.

However, despite the returning discomfort, Mac still couldn't keep himself awake even for the short drive to the hotel. He pushed himself into the corner where door and seat met, leaning his head against the window, and settled in. It wasn't very comfortable but it would due for the interim. But just as he was drifting off, he felt Jack's arm slip over his shoulders and he was tilted in the opposite direction. He grumbled, trying to return to his original position. Jack just hushed him and ten seconds later he fell into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

Jack looked down at his friend, head resting on Jack's shoulder and chest. Less than two minutes in the car and the kid was fast asleep. Dalton knew that he had to keep trying to contact the Foundation but his current list of priorities had a certain blond genius smack dab at the top. The patrol car pulled to a stop on a side street. Jack looked around in confusion. He'd thought with a room labelled 'Prince Suite' the hotel would've been a bit more posh than this.

As if reading his mind, the officer said, "This is the back door. Until we're sure the suspects in custody are the only ones we need to worry about, I figured it'd be best to err on the side of caution."

The fact that he hadn't thought of that himself was a testament to Jack's own exhaustion. "Good idea," he said. "Thanks, uh..." he realized belatedly he'd never gotten the officer's name.

"Name's Brian, and no problem."

Jack nodded, then glanced down at a still snoozing Mac, trying to figure out how he was going to get him up to the penthouse suite, when another thought occurred to him. "Hey, the kids…"

"They're gonna be fine. I got permission for my wife and I to take them in until something more permanent can be arranged. They're at my place now, likely being coddled by my wife."

"They're good kids. Saved my boy's life," he added, unconsciously snugging Mac a little bit closer.

"Yeah, I know. I've run into them before. Jay actually called me directly to come help you two."

"Really? He must really trust you."

Brian huffed a humourless laugh. "Yeah. As much as Jay trusts anybody." He indicated Mac, practically lying across Jack's lap now. "Your boy seems to trust you quite a bit."

Jack smiled but his gaze was serious. "It goes both ways."

"Kinda has to with family, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Jack agreed softly.

Brian got out of the car and opened the back door closest to Jack. "You need help with him?"

"Nah," Jack said. "I got 'im." He studied the sleeping form, trying to come up with a game plan. Ordinarily, he'd just toss the kid over his shoulder but that wasn't really an option with the injured ribs – which, he was willing to bet, Mac thought he'd forgotten about. Decision made, he started to back out of the car, gently pulling MacGyver with him. Once his feet were on the ground and he could get some leverage, he slipped one arm beneath the kid's knees, the other behind his back, then lifted with a grunt.

Brian had his hands out ready to provide assistance but, after a gentle jostle to get Mac's head resting on his shoulder, Jack was good to go. With a nod of approval, Officer Brian led the way to the back door, opening it for the former soldier and his precious cargo to enter ahead of him. He did that with every door and elevator all the way up to the suite and Jack was immensely grateful. Two arms full of genius made twisting door handles and pressing elevator buttons more than a little difficult. And getting a hotel key card out of his back pocket? Forget about it.

Performing one final act of kindness, Brian preceded Jack into the bedroom and drew the blankets back on the bed.

"Looks like you've done this before," Jack guessed, sitting MacGyver down onto the mattress, easing him back until his head was resting on the pillow, then gently lifting the long legs so that the kid was completely vertical.

Brian shrugged. "I had to carry my teenage son a lot in the days just before he died." His eyes filled. "Leukemia," he revealed quietly.

Uncertain how to respond, Jack placed one hand on the other man's arm. "I'm sorry," he offered sincerely.

Brian nodded, then cleared his throat. "He looked a bit like Mr. MacGyver here."

Choking back a laugh, Jack said, "Don't let Mac hear you call him that. Just MacGyver will do."

With a watery grin, Brian nodded again, then left to return to his duties – while Jack tended to his.

He considered waking the kid but knew full well that his exhaustion wasn't just due to the past several hours. It was due to the past several _days._ If he roused him to get changed, no telling when that ginormous brain of his would slow down enough for him to go back to sleep again.

So, Jack set to work removing first the filthy shoes and grimy shirt, then the tan chinos that looked a lot darker than Jack remembered them being when MacGyver had left his hospital room… wow, had that really been just eight hours ago? Once he had the kid down to his boxers, he covered him up and looked for a place to sit. Spying an arm chair over by the window, he dragged it over closer to the bed and made himself comfortable, settling in for the long haul.

Time to watch over his boy.

* * *

 _BANG!_

 _MacGyver raced down the stairs, each step feeling like his feet were stuck in cold molasses. His heart pounded in his ears. With each exhalation, a choked sob escaped._

 _Not fast enough. Not fast enough. Not…_

 _Suddenly, there at his feet, was Jack, curled in a fetal position, surrounded by a growing pool of blood. "Nooooo!" Mac's yell was swallowed up by the darkness closing in around him. He knelt beside his best friend, not knowing where to touch._

 _The Suit was suddenly looming over him, mocking him with a cartoon-worthy maniacal laugh that Mac may have found amusing under other circumstances. "Help him, please!" he begged, knowing his beseeching tone was pointless but needing to try anyway._

 _Before his eyes, the Suit morphed into El-Noche, lowering a Nitrogen mask down to Mac's face with a cruel leer. No! There was no time for this! He had to help Jack…_

 _MacGyver tried to shove the mask away, even as his gaze moved down to Jack. But Jack wasn't there anymore. Suddenly, Mac was sitting down, wrists bound to the arms of the chair, ankles to the legs. The Nitrogen mask lowered toward him again. It morphed into a syringe. Then back into the mask._

 _It was pressed against his face, covering his mouth and nose. Instinctively, Mac held his breath but a fist was shoved into his midsection! He doubled over, his body sucking in oxygen that his brain knew wasn't there._

 _He couldn't breathe! He was drowning! He vaguely remembered Jack coming to his rescue when this happened the first time. But Jack was dead._

 _Spots swam across his vision, preceding the curtains of black closing in._

 _Jack was dead. Jack was…_

* * *

MacGyver jolted awake with a gasp, trying desperately to pull air into his lungs. As his ability to breathe returned, so did awareness of his surroundings.

Jack was sitting in an armchair next to the bed, eyes closed. He was so still. Renewed panic surged up in Mac. He kicked the covers off and jumped to his feet. Lunging for Jack, he pressed two fingers beneath the stubbled jaw... and breathed a sigh of relief. The pulse beneath his touch was strong and steady. He sat back on the bed with a thump, placing his elbows on his knees, resting his face in his palms.

' _Breathe, MacGyver. Just breathe.'_

Realizing his cheeks were wet with tears, Mac wiped at his face with his hands. In the same moment, he noticed his clothes folded neatly on the chest of drawers a few feet away and flushed with embarrassment when he saw that he was dressed in just his boxers.

Awkwardness notwithstanding, MacGyver couldn't help but gaze at Jack with acute fondness. His friend was alive and well, and he couldn't be more thankful. Mac had had many people come and go in his life for varying reasons but Jack was one of the few who, despite everything, had stuck around.

" _I'm not a kid and you are not my father."_ The memory of what he'd said to his friend on the plane came rushing back to him.

Sometimes, Mac wondered if he deserved to have a friend like Jack in his life. This was one of those times.

Feeling his eyes start to droop, MacGyver knew his exhaustion was setting in again. He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Four am. Huh. Well, he'd gotten up earlier than that before.

Careful not to wake Jack, MacGyver got dressed and moved out into the main living area of the hotel room.

Usually, he would have started with vacuuming the living room, doing laundry, dusting. But, the fact that they were in a hotel room negated the need for cleaning. So, Mac wrote a hasty note for Jack in case he woke up before his return, then slipped on his shoes and brown leather jacket.

After rigging an exceptionally elaborate security system over the door to keep out intruders, MacGyver stepped out to get a few groceries, ensuring he hung the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door to prevent any unassuming room attendants from getting caught in his snare.

* * *

A bit of research on the phone that the police had thankfully retrieved from the Suit, revealed a 24-hour grocery store only a 30 minute walk away from the hotel. Mac didn't mind the walk, the weather was beautiful, even though the sun hadn't come up yet. Besides, he needed to clear his head.

With his security system keeping Jack safe back in the hotel room, MacGyver found his mind drifting back to Jay and Toby. He hoped and prayed that the kids were okay but knew that Jack would have told him if they weren't.

Along the walk to and from the store, even while he perused the aisles searching for the ingredients he would need, Mac failed to notice that he was looking over his shoulder, casting suspicion on everyone he passed. This hyper-vigilance was a common symptom of trauma but MacGyver was in denial that he had even been traumatized, so why would he recognize the warning signs of PTSD?

* * *

Jack wasn't sure what had woken him but the sight of the empty bed before him set his heart pounding in his chest. He leapt to his feet, almost knocking the arm chair over in the process. He took a breath to call out to his friend but, with MacGyver's name on his lips, he froze as the smell of a delectable cheese omelet assaulted his senses.

One of Mac's specialties.

Belly grumbling, Jack's heart returned to a regular beat as he made his way out to the kitchen. After all, he hadn't eaten solid food since before getting on the plane after the mission that had deposited them into the mess of the past week. And, as far as he was concerned, the IV nutrients the good doctors had given him didn't count.

If he couldn't taste it, then it wasn't real.

* * *

MacGyver stood in front of the stove, sprinkling more cheese on the omelet already oozing with melted cheddar and mozzarella. The green peppers, onions, and mushrooms sizzled away and the scent of his secret spice mixture wafted through the air. Cooking Jack's favourite breakfast was such an effective distraction from not only the events of the past week or so, but also from the night terror that had woken him just a few short hours ago, that Mac even found himself whistling.

On his trek to the kitchen, Jack hesitated when he saw the conglomeration covering the main entry way. Giving the contraption a double take, he continued to the kitchen where he was surprised to find MacGyver in good spirits, if the upbeat tune he was whistling was any indication.

"Mac?"

The startled jump belied the outward appearance of contentment, however, and Jack's Spidey-senses went into overdrive as he suddenly figured out what the apparatus over the front door was supposed to do.

"Mornin', sleepy head," MacGyver crowed, pushing his 'I am totally fine' routine to its limits. But Jack wasn't buying it. No way could the kid go through what he'd gone through over the past week and be 'fine'.

"Good morning," Jack said carefully, not missing the fact that MacGyver had yet to turn around and look at him. "Whatcha doin'?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Jack? I'm making breakfast."

As his sleep addled mind caught up with him, Jack glanced around at the items on the counter – a carton of eggs, milk, onions, mushrooms, rainbow peppers, and various spices. An empty wrapper sat next to them, he could only assume that had been for the cheese. He and Mac both liked lots of cheese in their omelettes.

Jack watched MacGyver place an omelette onto a plate and anxiously waited for the opportunity to achieve eye contact with the kid. His hopes were dashed as Mac turned to hand him his plate but kept his gaze busy darting about the kitchen, as if ensuring he wasn't forgetting anything.

"Have a seat," the blond said absently, gesturing toward the table in the dining area.

"What about you?"

"I'm not hungry," Mac informed him. "Besides, this is all for you."

Jack's eyebrows arched at the admission. "What's the occasion," he asked. "My birthday isn't for another few months."

"You saved my life, Jack. This is my way of saying thank you," he muttered, using a damp cloth to clean the stove and then the counter around Jack's plate.

"Since when do you think you have to thank me for that, Mac? It's my job, remember?"

The flinch and the blush happened simultaneously, caught only due to Jack's keen senses with anything MacGyver-related.

"Pretty sure you went above and beyond the call of duty this time, man. Seeing as I don't remember anything after getting into that cop car, yet I woke up safe and sound in bed."

"You're not as light as you look, brother," Jack told him with a smirk, trying to ease his friend's embarrassment.

Mac paused for a moment, still not making eye contact. "I'm not sure whether to take that as compliment or insult."

"The former," Jack said. "No, wait, the latter," he amended, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

"You're playing dumb on purpose," the blond accused. Knowing that Jack was trying to cause him to stumble into unwanted eye contact, Mac steadfastly avoided it because he also knew that Jack would use that contact to get a far too accurate read on his current state of mind - which, Mac was pretty sure, would be scarier than a Stephen King novel in those moments.

"Who, me?" Jack queried with false levity. He was concerned about his young friend but he also knew he'd have his work cut out for him this time and he wouldn't be any good to Mac if he didn't eat something beforehand. "Fork and knife, please?" he requested.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," MacGyver replied, words coming a little too fast for Jack's liking. The kid reached into a nearby drawer, then placed the silverware on the counter next to Jack's plate. Still, without looking up. Not even for a second.

Mac continued cleaning up the kitchen, putting the omelet ingredients into the fridge, wiping off the counter. He heard a groan of delight from behind him.

"Mac, this is delicious! I've never been so happy for Patty's attention to detail."

"Huh?" MacGyver asked distractedly, putting the frying pan into the sink and running hot water into it.

"Having the hotel contriage do a grocery run for us. That woman is good at what she does, I'll give her that. I never even told her where we're staying yet."

"I think you mean 'concierge', Jack," MacGyver corrected, squeezing some dish detergent into the pan.

"Whatever," the ex-commando said, waving his fork in the air dismissively.

"And Thornton didn't arrange for the groceries. I went out and got them myself."

The clatter of the fork falling to the table was Mac's only warning and his mind was so sluggish, even that didn't have him turning before he was spun around none too gently, two hands gripping his upper arms in an iron-like grip, and found himself staring into the astonished and angry gaze of Jack Dalton.

"You went out there alone? Are you crazy?" the older man growled.

Mac tried to pull free from Jack's grip but there was absolutely no give. "So, I went out to get a few groceries. What's the big deal?"

"Are you kidding me? For the smartest guy in the room, you can be awfully stupid sometimes!" Jack tried to rein himself in but it wasn't working, until he saw the stricken look on the kid's face. He forced him to take a deep breath, releasing MacGyver in the same instant. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jack insisted.

MacGyver backed away from him. Was that fear in his eyes? Jack didn't lose his temper often but when he did, it never elicited fear from the kid. If anything, MacGyver would be more likely to get angry back. Then the two would laugh it off and go have a couple drinks together. Two friends knowing that it was just the stress of a mission gone wrong.

Raising his hands placatingly, Jack tried to explain. "We don't know that those guys last night were the entire organization, Mac. There could be more out there looking for you. And… I – I can't…" he turned away, scrubbing his hands across his scalp, wishing his hair was long enough to get a grip on. How could he have done that? MacGyver had just suffered trauma upon trauma over the past week, and here he was inflicting even more on the kid.

He braced both hands on the kitchen counter, his head hanging forward in shame. He shouldn't have been surprised to feel the strong grip of Mac's hand on one shoulder, but he was.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I wasn't thinking. I just needed to get out, clear my head, y'know?"

Jack nodded, he understood that completely. He turned around, his tentative smile freezing before it had even fully formed.

"What?" MacGyver asked. "What's wrong?"

"How much sleep did you get, kid?" Jack asked him, focusing on the dark circles beneath the tired blue eyes, the unusually mussed hair.

Knowing how haggard he appeared, Mac instantly lowered his gaze, turning away from his friend, only to have his efforts thwarted by one hand on his arm and another coming up to grip his chin, forcing further eye contact. MacGyver focused his gaze on an empty spot on the wall over Jack's shoulder. "A bit," he whispered.

"Hey, look at me." When the kid didn't comply, Jack repeated himself, his tone leaving no wriggle room. " _Look_ at me."

Mac did as he was told, his eyes filling with tears he refused to let fall. "You died." He hadn't meant to say it out loud but there it was. He closed his eyes to shut out the humiliation he felt.

"Hey!" was all Jack had to say to have the eyes flick open and lock with his once again. "Good boy. Now, what do you mean, I died? I'm right here, kiddo."

"I know," MacGyver admitted, squirming in Jack's hold. He hated heart-to-hearts, especially when the broken one was his own. "But in my dream…" his voice trailed off to silence.

"Tell me."

"It's stupid."

"You know, as well as I do, PTSD is common after trauma, Mac. And sometimes all you can do is talk about it. Maybe even shed a few tears. But it is far from being stupid, brother."

"You're absolutely right. PTSD is not stupid. But that's not what this is."

"Really? So, that door with one of your homemade security systems isn't you being hyper-vigilant? How about on your walk to the store, were you looking over your shoulder the whole time? Thinking every person you passed could be an enemy?"

Mac looked at the door, then thought back on his journey to and from the store. He _had_ been looking over his shoulder a lot, had tensed every time someone passed him or, worse, came up behind him, but - "That's not…" he began. His voice trailed off again as the truth hit home.

"And, correct me if I'm wrong here, but I'm guessing this 'dream' of yours was actually a night terror."

The blond pulled away again. This time, Jack let him. For now. "So what if it was?" he demanded, walking to one side of the room and back again, like a caged animal. "What are you gonna do, Jack? You can't protect me from my dreams, man! I'm the only one who can do that!"

"Who says?'

MacGyver turned truly confused eyes on him but didn't pause in his pacing. "What?"

"Who says I can't protect you from your dreams?"

Mac laughed humourlessly. "Whatever, Jack."

"Hey, I'm Captain America, remember?" The question was asked with a toothy grin that made MacGyver wince.

"They weren't supposed to tell you that," he muttered softly, hand moving up to the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

"Yeah, I kinda figured."

"I can't sleep, Jack. I won't."

"I get that you think you can't, buddy, I do. But believe me when I tell you… you _will_ sleep."

"Jack – "

"No, you can't just decide to not ever sleep again, man."

"I don't mean ever. Just until I get past what... just until I get past this mission."

Jack studied him a moment and remembered something that was said back at Jay and Toby's apartment. "This night terror you had, did El-Noche make an appearance at all?" He made sure to pronounce the name right this time because he didn't want to give Mac a way out of this discussion. As expected, the kid stopped pacing and stared at him, eyes wide as saucers.

"How did you – ?"

"You said his name in your delirium last night."

MacGyver resumed his pacing. This time, more to avoid eye contact again than to work off nervous energy. "So, what's your point?"

Inserting himself directly into the kid's path, Jack said, "My point is, if El-Noche is still entering into these night terrors, then maybe your compartmentalizing isn't working as well as you think it is. Sometimes you just need to let yourself feel what you're feeling, kid."

Mac shook his head emphatically, eyes filled with dread and a bit of fear.

"You're thinking if you let yourself feel, you'll turn into a blubbering mess, I get it. And you're probably right."

"Thanks, Jack. Nice pep talk." MacGyver moved to continue his precious pacing but Jack sidestepped him, effectively blocking him.

"At first," he told him. "But I'll be sure to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. I promise."

"Great, now you're comparing me to an anthropomorphic egg."

"An anthropomor… stop tryin' to distract me. Now, do you want to sleep, or not?"

"Not," MacGyver answered a little too quickly.

"I'd hate to tell Patty that you're not mission ready."

"You wouldn't dare," Mac challenged.

"When it comes to you bein' safe out in the field, you better believe I would, buddy!"

The blond sighed, knowing he'd been beat. "Fine, I'll sleep." He headed back to the bedroom but turned suddenly when he sensed Jack following him. "Where are you going?" A little trace of fear entered his mind at the thought of Jack leaving the hotel room… and dying.

"With you. We discussed this already."

Now, a whole new fear coursed through Mac's veins. He wasn't really planning to… "Discussed what?"

"Me protecting you from your nightmares," he told him with exaggerated patience before gripping the kid's shoulders and turning him back toward the bedroom.

"Jack, this really isn't necessary," MacGyver insisted, scared of what he might say or do if he had another night terror. The last time, his face was soaked with tears.

"I beg to differ," the older man returned, gently shoving Mac into the room. He pointed to the bed. "Sleep."

Mac watched as Jack sat down in his armchair again, pulling out his phone and accessing a game app.

"You're just gonna watch me sleep?"

"No way" Jack replied, feigning offense. "That would be creepy." He held up his phone. "I'm gonna play Bejeweled."

Mac still hesitated, gaze moving from the bed, to Jack, then behind him to the door.

"Don't even think about it, brother. You know darn well I could catch you on the best of days. And today is _not_ one of your best days."

Knowing Jack was right didn't stop Mac from continuing to consider the door as an available option.

"It's just you an' me here, buddy."

That had MacGyver's attention whipping back to his friend.

"You trust me, right?"

"With my life," Mac said without hesitation.

"Right back at ya, buddy," Jack replied with a tender smile. "Now, sleep. Please."

Finally, the blond slowly kicked off his shoes and crawled onto the bed. He lied on his back for all of about 10 seconds before getting up again. "See? I'm not tired."

Sighing, Jack halted him with a hand on his arm. He directed him back to the bed, pulled the covers back, then gently but firmly applied pressure to the slender shoulders until the kid was sitting down again. Much like he had the night before, he eased Mac back and lifted his legs onto the bed, then covered him up. Forcing himself to refrain from actually tucking him in, Jack retook his seat in the armchair.

For all his fear of Jack watching him amidst a nightmare, Mac suddenly found himself terrified that his friend would leave him alone. His alarmed gaze locked onto Jack.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Jack promised, as if once again reading his mind. "Just close your eyes, kid. Go to sleep."

* * *

Jack could kick himself for letting his guard down earlier. He was supposed to be watching the kid's back and had fallen asleep on the job! Well, not this time. He was going to be there for his little blond genius, whether the kid wanted it or not.

The game of Bejeweled had been solely for Mac's benefit. As soon as he'd fallen asleep, Jack had put his phone away and focused on what mattered.

He sat up straighter in his chair when the kid in question started twitching and murmuring in his sleep.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N This was supposed to be the final chapter but, yet again, my muse kinda took off on her own path and there was no reining her in! LoL Some of you asked me to continue with this story, so I guess you'll be happy. I apologize to the ones who are finding this a little too drawn out. I hope it's enjoyable either way. :-)_

 _A/N 2 Thank you for all the overwhelmingly positive responses to my story! Each and every one of you have made my week! :-)_

 _A/N 3 Btw, there are some mentions of sickness in this here chapter. It's not graphic but, if you're squeamish about such things, you should maybe skip over those paragraphs. You'll see 'em coming, trust me. :-)_

* * *

 _MacGyver heard the gunshot. He raced down the stairs, each step feeling like his feet were stuck in cold molasses. His heart pounded in his ears. With each exhalation, a choked sob escaped._

 _Not fast enough. Not fast enough. Not…_

 _Suddenly, there at his feet, was Jack, curled in a fetal position, surrounded by a growing pool of blood. "Nooooo!" Mac's scream was swallowed up by the darkness closing in around him. He knelt beside his best friend, not knowing where to touch._

 _The Suit loomed over him, mocking him with a cartoon-worthy maniacal laugh that Mac may have found amusing under other circumstances. "Help him, please!" he begged, knowing his beseeching tone was pointless._

 _Before his eyes, the Suit morphed into El-Noche, lowering a Nitrogen mask down to Mac's face with a cruel leer. No! There was no time for this! He had to help Jack…_

 _MacGyver shoved the mask away, and returned his attention to his best friend. But Jack was no longer curled up at his feet, he was towering above him. Mac was stunned when Jack's fists grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him roughly to his feet. The look in the brown eyes was what really shook him though – something he had never seen in that gaze before… Hatred!_

' _This is all your fault! I could be alive, living with Sarah or Diane right now, but instead I'm stuck with you! You were right. I'm not your father. You're not my son. So, then, tell me – because we both know you're the_ _brains_ _of this operation – why am I always riskin' my life for you?' Jack ended his tirade with a brutal shove and Mac tumbled away from him. The last thing he saw was revulsion and disgust, where he usually saw love and respect._

 _Mac's fall ended with him in a chair, wrists bound to the arms of the chair, ankles to the legs. The Nitrogen mask lowered toward him again. It morphed into a syringe. Then back into the mask._

 _The mask was pressed against his face, covering his mouth and nose. Instinctively, Mac held his breath but a fist was shoved into his midsection! He doubled over, his body sucking in oxygen that his brain knew wasn't there. His blurred vision latched onto Jack curled up at his feet again, eyes wide and unseeing._

 _Mac sobbed, pulling in more Nitrogen and not even caring. He couldn't breathe. He was drowning. He vaguely remembered Jack coming to his rescue when this happened the first time. But Jack was dead, so MacGyver just couldn't bring himself to fight the effects of the gas anymore._

 _Jack was dead. Jack was dead. Jack was…_

* * *

Jack felt completely helpless as he watched his friend writhe on the bed, moaning in despair. His heart broke when he heard his name uttered from between the trembling lips amidst the misery. "Screw this," he muttered, kicking off his shoes, and sitting down on the bed. He pulled Mac into his arms, mindful of the still damaged ribs, "I'm right here, buddy. I'm right here." No effect. If anything, MacGyver only pushed against him with even more determination and surprising strength. With one final shove, the kid fell out of his arms and rolled right off the bed. Jack scrambled to follow, more than a little distressed to hear Mac gasping for breath. Falling to his knees beside the slender form, Jack strove not to panic as he tried to figure out what exactly was happening.

He remember the scene back at El Noche's compound. Jack had performed CPR on his friend back then. But shouldn't he wake up from his nightmare on his own. He couldn't actually _die_ while dreaming… could he?

MacGyver's lips were turning blue, his eyes wide… and locked onto Jack. "Mac? Kid, can you hear me?"

One hand came up, desperately seeking contact and grasping onto Jack's t-shirt.

"Okay, okay," Jack said, smoothing back the blond strands before tilting the head back and clearing the airway. He leaned down and breathed into the oxygen deprived lungs. "Come on, kid. Breathe!" Jack had done this in the past, of course. And not just at El Noche's compound. But this was the first time he could actually see the life fading from the blue eyes. He leaned forward and offered another breath. When he pulled back again, MacGyver's eyes were closed.

Frightened, Jack checked for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the lub-dub rhythm beneath his fingers… then it stuttered to a halt. "No, no, no," he muttered, interlocking his fingers and placing his hands at the centre of Mac's chest to begin chest compressions. After 30, he tilted the chin back again and breathed two puffs of air into his friend.

He repeated the process several times, tears streaming down his face unhindered, landing on the too-still and expressionless face below him. Still, there was no change. Despair morphed into anger. Anger morphed into rage. "NO!" he hollered, slamming one fist into the slender chest!

MacGyver gasped in his first breath in Jack didn't want to calculate how long. The blond curled in on himself, coughing repeatedly. Still kneeling next to him, Jack pulled Mac up to lean against him to help him breathe easier – and to help Jack know that the kid was actually alive.

Several moments later, as awareness returned, so did pride. Flushing with embarrassment at being in Jack's lap yet again, Mac determinedly extricated himself from the cuddle-puddle and stood on shaky legs. Avoiding eye contact with Jack, he made his way out to the main living area of the hotel room.

* * *

Jack wanted to follow his young friend so badly. But he understood the kid's need to pull himself together in private. Mostly. Jack just wished he wouldn't feel the need to hide his pain around him. Around the rest of the world, sure. But not around the one person who cared about him more than anything.

After a few moments, he rose to his feet and trailed after MacGyver. He found him slouched on the sofa, fiddling with a paperclip, another pile awaiting his attention on the coffee table.

The blue eyes glanced up at his approach, cheeks flushing as if on cue. With a sigh, Jack sat down on the arm chair next to the sofa. "You almost died in there, Mac," he informed him. "I'm sorry if my relief at you still being alive embarrasses you but – "

"Thank you," the blond muttered softly, voice still hoarse from the coughing.

"Anytime, brother, you know that."

"I guess what happened with this mission reminded me of El Noche's compound. But I'm fine, Jack. I just need some time," he added beseechingly.

Jack watched him for a moment as the kid unconsciously scratched at the inside of his elbow through the long sleeved tee, clearly in absentminded memory of the most recent attack. "Well, time's not something we have, Mac. Not in our line of work. And, did I mention, you _almost died_?" Jack thought back to the Captain America reference and realized for the first time, the true implications of such a comparison. Maybe Mac was thinking he had to be as strong as he perceived Jack to be? Well, that was just stupid. Jack was far from indestructible.

Decision made, Jack said, "You know, when I was shot on that plane, if I had been with anyone else, I woulda' been terrified that I was gonna die. But I wasn't, and do you know why?" MacGyver didn't look at him but he paused long enough in his paperclip molding that Jack knew he was listening. "Because I knew you had my back. Plain and simple. And I'm assuming that's why you didn't just lay down and die last night, because _you_ knew that I'd come for you. Am I right?" Mac's nod was almost imperceptible but it was there.

Jack moved from the arm chair and sat next to his friend on the sofa, placing a hand on the slope of MacGyver's shoulder. The muscles tensed beneath his touch. He began his own molding, kneading out the knots, attempting to ease the tension. "That's what I meant when I said that we take turns protectin' each other. You saved my life on that plane, Mac, and so many other times that I lost count. It's only fair that you give me a chance to return the favour once in a while. Just… talk to me, man."

MacGyver opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. When he tried again, he sounded embarrassed. "I'm – I'm just not used to this."

Moving his hand from the slope of Mac's shoulder to the nape of his neck, Jack gave a gentle squeeze. "I know that, brother. But you said earlier that you trust me with your life. Don't you think you should start trustin' me with your pain, too?"

"It's just not that easy."

Jack took pity on the kid. This was 20 plus years' worth of conditioning MacGyver was trying to fight here. "Okay, how about I start, huh? I was terrified."

Mac glanced sideways at him. "But you said – "

"I'm not talkin' about on the plane. I'm talkin' about last night. I was terrified outta my mind, man."

"Me, too," MacGyver agreed softly.

Now, they were getting somewhere.

"I could barely string any thoughts together, let alone figure out a way out of that building. Then you got shot – !"

"In your dream, you mean," Jack quickly amended.

"Yeah… in my dream." Mac was speaking so softly now, it was almost a whisper. Jack had to lean in close just to hear him. "And you were bleeding out and I couldn't stop it and the Suit was there, then he turned into El Noche, then you told me…"

Jack waited a moment but when nothing else seemed forthcoming, he prompted, "I told you what?"

MacGyver's knee started bouncing, the muscle in his jaw twitched. He set the paperclip, now shaped like a bullet, down on the coffee table and jumped to his feet. "This is stupid." He ran his hands through his hair and began eating up the room with long, purposeful strides.

"Mac?" Once again, the kid looked like a caged animal. Jack knew what that meant and was unsurprised when the kid made for the door, then stood up to follow. He wasn't too concerned about him leaving the room too quickly, what with the MacGyver-esque homemade security contraption covering the door.

Which was why he leaned against a nearby wall, crossed his arms over his chest and watched with some amusement as MacGyver desperately turned various bolts and screws with his Swiss Army knife, trying to get out of his own Fort Knox.

Then the blade slipped and sliced through Mac's palm. Failing to see the humour anymore, Jack leaned over the kid's shoulder and snatched the knife out of his hands. "Give me that."

"Hey," MacGyver snapped, spinning on Jack and shoving him back against the wall. Flight hadn't worked, so fight was now setting in.

"Settle down, Mac," Jack said calmly, raising his hands in supplication. "You cut yourself, bud," he added with a nod toward the gash on Mac's palm.

Panting from exertion, MacGyver held up his hand and looked at it like he would an alien appendage. Jack took advantage of the inattention and hauled his young friend into the bathroom. He lowered the toilet seat lid and sat Mac down on top of it. Turning to leave, he thought better of it and spun back to MacGyver. "Stay," he ordered, pointing one finger at him.

"I'm not a puppy, Jack," the blond groused, absently scratching at the inside of his elbow again.

"Yeah, you are," Jack teased, grinning from ear to ear. "But you're my puppy." Not quite ducking a roll of toilet paper that not-so-mysteriously flew through the air and bounced off his head, he took off to get the med kit out of his suitcase, then realized their luggage was still on the plane. Making a quick detour to the linen closet, he grabbed one of the larger hand towels and a face cloth, then returned to the bathroom – to a thoroughly dejected looking MacGyver.

Studying his friend as he turned on the faucet, Jack pushed the long sleeve of the tee up just past Mac's wrist and held his bleeding hand beneath a cold stream of water. "Wanna tell me what's goin' through that ginormous brain of yours?"

"I'm sorry."

Jack turned off the water. As he patted the hand dry with the face cloth, he glanced at MacGyver. "Sorry for what?" Wrapping the hand towel around the wound, he waited patiently for a reply but got none. Letting the topic go for the time being, he took Mac by the elbow and pulled him to his feet, disconcerted by how pliant he suddenly seemed to be. "You wanna try getting some more sleep?"

"No," came the instant reply.

"Okay, so then what do you want? A beer, maybe?"

MacGyver's face shot up, his expression one of relief and thanks. "I would _love_ a beer." Then, after a brief hesitation, his face fell again. "But I didn't buy any."

An idea struck Jack and his face lit up with a mischievous glee.

"What?" Mac asked, not at all sure he wanted to know.

Instead of answering, Jack motioned for him to follow him to the living room and, a few minutes later, he was digging into the room's mini-bar.

MacGyver hung back a bit, uncertain at the wisdom of this particular plan. "Isn't this stuff expensive, Jack?"

The older of the two scoffed. "We'll put it on Patty's tab."

"I thought you said she doesn't know where we are? How could she be paying the bill?"

Jack shrugged. "We'll just have her pay it _post factum._ "

The last left Mac slightly stunned. "In all the years I've known you, not once have you ever mentioned knowing Latin."

"I dated my Latin professor in college. She had really great… tutoring skills."

MacGyver chuckled. "I'm sure she did," he replied, accepting the cold bottle of beer with a grateful smile. He looked at the label. "Alexander Keith's?"

"It's actually really good."

"How come I've never heard of it?"

"Beer connoisseur, are you? It's a local brew. I had it the last time I was here. Trust me, you'll like it." He seized a bottle for himself and handed it to MacGyver to open with the Swiss Army knife he had already retrieved from the bathroom vanity, then took an additional moment to peruse the rest of the fridge's contents. His eyes alit on a handful of small bottles of Tequila Rose. With a new plan forming, he grabbed those as well, then closed the fridge.

Taking a swig of beer, and handing the second bottle to Jack, MacGyver studied his friend and the small bottles of crème liquor very carefully. "I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work," he insisted, once again scratching at the inside of his elbow.

"What?" Jack asked, trying to look innocent – and failing miserably.

"You're thinking, if you can get me drunk, then my defenses will lower and I'll open up to you about anything and everything in my life."

"No idea what you're talkin' about, brother. I'm just thinking we more than earned a boys' night. Don't you agree?" He held up his bottle and waited for MacGyver to do the same.

Still eyeing Jack warily, Mac clinked his bottle neck with Jack's and they sat down on the sofa.

"And what's a boys' night without pizza?" Jack asked, pulling out his cell phone.

Mac's expression turned sheepish. "I kinda prevented anyone getting in or out, remember?"

"I got that covered," Jack told him mysteriously, earning a quizzical look from MacGyver.

After ordering the pie, the two men leaned back into the cushions, legs stretched out in front of them. MacGyver rolled his head towards Jack. "Aren't you going to turn on the television?"

"Nah," Jack said. "I was thinking we could just talk."

"I knew it," MacGyver exclaimed, starting to rise to his feet.

Jack grabbed him by the arm to halt his progress. "Hey, now, hold on a minute. We can talk about anything you wanna talk about. Okay?"

"Anything I want to talk about?"

"Anything," Jack promised.

Mac continued to eye his friend with suspicion but, after a moment, he settled back onto the sofa again. If Jack wasn't telling the truth, he deserved an Oscar for his current performance. "Okay, then," he ventured, "tell me about Sarah." The stricken look on his friend's face had MacGyver regretting his jibe instantly.

He'd been trying to prove a point, while at the same time testing Jack's promise. And, truth be told, a small part of him had never truly understood Jack's hesitancy to reveal his true feelings to Sarah. That said, he hadn't considered that his words might hurt his friend and instantly started to backpedal. "Never mind, I never should have – "

"What do you want to know?" Jack interjected, settling back into one corner of the cushions, one elbow on the arm rest, his other arm stretched out over the back of the sofa. If he was expecting MacGyver to bare his soul to him, he figured he'd darn well better be prepared to do the same.

The blond hesitated. For all of his genius, he couldn't for the life of him figure out where to begin. That wasn't true, he knew exactly what he wanted to know. He just didn't want to dredge up buried memories. But Jack looked like he was truly ready to talk about it, his gaze filled with profound fondness that Mac wasn't quite sure he deserved…

 _The eyes, filled with disgust, stared at him – "It's all your fault!... You're not my son!... Why am I always riskin' my life for you?"_

"Mac?"

The concerned tone brought MacGyver back to the here and now. "Sorry," he muttered. Then, to draw attention off himself because Jack was doing the whole 'stare-into-your-soul' thing again, he blurted, "Why did you think you would just ruin your relationship with Sarah?" He took another swig from his bottle. Liquid courage because dang, nightmare or not, seeing that hatred in Jack's eyes had shaken him to his core.

Setting aside Mac's spaced-out moment for the time being, Jack replied with a shrug, "Because it's just what I do."

"That seems to indicate that you've been in a serious relationship before. Before Sarah, I mean."

Jack took a sip of his own beer.

"Tell me," the blond insisted, sitting up straighter in his seat.

"There's not much to tell, Mac," he said, even while leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and staring intently at his friend. MacGyver knew this pose well – Storyteller mode. "It was about 25 years ago. I was in love with this girl named Maria."

"Wait, 25 years?" MacGyver quickly did the math. "Was this your Latin professor?"

Jack's only confirmation of Mac's guess was a sly smile. "She was beautiful, Mac. Man, was she beautiful!"

Mac grinned at the nostalgic joy on Jack's face but said nothing, wanting more than anything to hear this story. It was more than a mere distraction now. It was a peek into the inner-workings of Jack Dalton.

"But she was also a bit of a bad girl, y'know? I even traded in my car for a motorbike! That was a big deal for me. I was kinda straight-laced when I was younger."

"You're kidding."

"No, man, I'm serious. There was a lot more colour in my wardrobe, too. Well, it was the 80's so it was all pastels, but there was very little black, if any."

MacGyver's grin grew even wider, picturing Jack Dalton in pastels instead of his signature black t-shirt and jeans.

"So, basically, what you're telling me is you were more Sonny Crocket than Danny Zuko."

"How do you even know – ?"

"Miami Vice and Grease, Jack. Come on, I'm not _that_ young."

Jack peered at him, not buying the explanation for a second.

"Fine," MacGyver amended. "Miami Vice was made into a movie, and Grease is the classic movie of choice on TV at least once a month. Happy?"

"Knowing that shows and movies from my generation are now considered 'classics'? Oh yeah, I'm ecstatic," Jack deadpanned.

Mac rolled his eyes. "Now, back to our regular scheduled programming…" he not so subtly prompted.

"Okay, okay, fine. Where was I?"

"You traded in your car for a motorcycle."

"Right, right. I knew how much Maria loved bikers, so I traded in my car for a motorcycle, then I went out and bought a whole new wardrobe."

"Let me guess, a closet full of black t-shirts and jeans?"

"Hey, are you gonna let me tell this story, or not?"

MacGyver bit back a smile and raised his hands placatingly. "My bad. Please, continue."

"You're probably thinkin' I was a little stalker-ish, and you may be right, but this was my first time being so head-over-heels in love with someone like her. So, when she told me she only dates bikers, it only made sense to trade my car in. And the threads, well that was just a natural progression from that. I mean, who's ever seen someone bikin' down the highway in pastels, right?"

"So, did you get the girl?"

"Oh yeah, I got her."

"And?"

"And we moved in together after six months. I proposed after twelve – "

"Wait, you _proposed_ to her?"

"Yeah, man, I told ya', I was in love."

"What did she say?"

"She said yes," Jack told him.

MacGyver gave his friend a 'way to go' smile and a punch in the arm until he remembered this was a 'how I know I ruin relationships' story. The smile fell from his face and he waited for the other proverbial shoe to fall. He tilted his bottle back for another drink of beer, only to find the bottle was empty.

Without missing a beat, Jack took the bottle out of Mac's hand, replacing it with one of the smaller bottles of liqueur. Mac looked at it with a quizzical look on his face. _Tequila Rose Strawberry Crème Liqueur._ He glanced up at Jack uncertainly, earning a look of challenge in return. Holding the gaze, MacGyver unscrewed the top and gulped the beverage back. He stared at the bottle again, this time surprised that it had tasted so good.

"Right?" Jack asked.

The blond nodded, then reached for another. Jack hid his smile by taking a swig from his own beer bottle. Jack hated warm beer but if the alcohol induced buzz loosened Mac's lips and lowered his defenses, then he was all for it. After all, Jack was the only one who was going to see him like that and he certainly wasn't going to tell anyone.

He watched as MacGyver downed the second bottle and reached for a third. "Whoa, whoa, brother, take it easy," halting the kid's hand with his own. He wanted him to get a bit of a buzz, not drink himself into a stupor. Checking his watch, he figured the pizza would arrive in about twenty minutes. That should help a little bit, anyway. Meanwhile, Mac ignored Jack's warnings and reached for a fourth bottle, even as he got up to dig into the mini-bar for another. Jack started to rethink his plan.

"I think you'd make a great dad."

The words were said so off-the-cuff that Jack initially thought he'd misheard. "What was that?"

MacGyver turned toward him and Jack wasn't sure if the kid was blushing from embarrassment or flushing from inebriation. "I said, I think you'd make a great dad."

Jack's eyebrows nearly shot to his hairline. "Thanks, buddy. That means a lot coming from you. But why are you saying this now?"

Mac shrugged, then turned back to the mini-bar, digging through to find some of the yummy strawberry tequila thingies. At this point, anything to avoid Jack. Why _had_ he said that, anyway?

"Does this have anything to do with your nightmare?" No response. "Mac?"

"You said I wouldn't have to talk about it."

"No," Jack corrected. "What I said was, we could talk about anything you wanted to talk about. You're the one who brought this up, brah."

MacGyver held his silence but stopped looking for the liqueur. Now, he was just crouched in front of the mini-bar, head hung low, shoulders hunched.

"Ever think your sub-conscious maybe _wants_ you to talk about it? Like, maybe it knows you _need_ to talk about it?"

"I'm sorry for what I said on the plane," Mac said in response.

Sensing that this was leading somewhere important, Jack stood up and joined the kid at the mini-bar, hunkering down next to him and placing a hand on the tense shoulder once again. He didn't need to ask what he was referring to. "That's okay, buddy. You were in a bad place, I know that."

MacGyver's head shot up and he looked at Jack with eyes as wide as saucers.

"You really think I don't know your file backwards and forwards? Worryin' about you, protectin' you, that's my job, man."

The chuckle that escaped was humourless. "I thought you said we protect each other," he challenged.

"We do. That's what makes you so amazing, because you protect me and it ain't even your job."

First, Mac flushed with pleasure at the unexpected praise, then something in the blue eyes changed but the kid looked away before Jack could pinpoint exactly what that change was. He shook off Jack's hand and stood up, stumbling a bit but keeping his feet beneath him. Jack studied him and knew for a fact that he wasn't angry. It was more like he was reluctantly accepting a truth… though what truth, Jack had no idea. "So, when do you think the pizza is gonna get here? I'm starving!"

Jack was confused at first, then it hit him. _Stupid geniuses._ But, in the kid's defense, alcohol did kind of dull the senses and bring emotions closer to the surface. And that was what Jack had intended, after all. So, he'd cut the kid some slack. "Protectin' you started out as my job, Mac. It's not anymore. I mean, it is, but it's more than that now… come on, you know I'm not all that good with words, man. Please, tell me you know what I'm tryin' to say here."

"I do," MacGyver told him, eyes filling unexpectedly. He turned away from Jack, bringing thumb and forefinger up to the bridge of his nose to help quell the tears. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he exclaimed.

Instead of reminding him about the effects of alcohol – because, let's face it, the blond genius knew more about chemical reactions than Jack ever could – Jack took his opportunity. "I'm telling you, it's your – "

"Subconscious," Mac finished for him. "Jack, if I tell you what happened in the dream, you'll just laugh, okay?"

"If it's havin' this effect on you, I can assure you that I won't find it the least bit funny."

"It's silly. Caused by nothing but stupid insecurities."

Jack closed the mini-bar and stood up to be eye to eye with his young friend. "Well, the only insecurities I've ever seen you have are to do with Nikki," no reaction, "and your folks." Bingo! Mac's gaze darted to the floor, cheeks tinged with pink once again. It was beginning to be a regular look for the kid. Jack reached out to him but he shied away from his touch and took a few steps back. "This got something to do with your dad?" Jack hedged.

"Sort of," Mac allowed, then, "I mean, no. I mean…"

Jack inched forward. "Well, either it does or it doesn't. I'm a little confused here, buddy."

MacGyver pushed his hands through his hair in agitated motions. "It's stupid!"

"Kid, _nothing_ that goes through that ginormous brain of yours is _ever_ stupid. Now, what did I say in this dream of yours?"

"You agreed with me, okay?"

Peering closely, trying to catch every emotion that filtered through those blue eyes, Jack said, "I agree with you about stuff every day. I don't always understand you, but I almost always agree. So, it's gotta be something more than that. Lay it on me, kid."

His response was a watery smile, automatically trying to make light of whatever he was about to say. "You said that I'm not your kid, and you're not my father, and you wondered why you risk your life for me every day, then you died. And I died. See? Stupid, right?" He tried to brush past Jack but was quickly sidestepped. Instead, he avoided any and all eye contact with his friend, not wanting to see ridicule. Not from Jack. Not ever. He felt Jack's hands on his upper arms, holding him in place.

Jack tried to achieve eye contact but Mac was having none of it. Finally, keeping a hold of him with one hand, Jack captured the kid's chin between his thumb and forefinger with the other, tilting the face up toward him. "Hey. Hey!" MacGyver jumped a bit at the raised voice but Jack locked eyes with him and silently dared him to break the contact. He searched the carefully shuttered gaze, and for just an instant the walls lowered and Jack saw behind the shutters – and he was shocked to discover what he found. Or, rather, what he didn't find. "You really don't know, do you?"

MacGyver seemed honestly perplexed. Not a common look for the kid and Jack made the mistake of laughing.

Scowling, Mac pulled his chin out of Jack's grasp and attempted to walk away. However, Jack still had hold of his upper arm and hauled him back to face him again. Thankfully, Mac was angry, so his pride forced _him_ to be the one to make eye contact this time. Defiant eye contact, sure, but Jack could still work with it.

"Mac, you're so much more than just my best friend." He paused, desperate to say the exact right words despite the fact that those words probably weren't even in the English dictionary – maybe in the Latin but Jack could only remember a few words from that one. "You're the son I never had." The tears once again welling up in the blue eyes told Jack he'd said the right thing and he pulled MacGyver into his arms. "You're m' boy, Mac. Never forget that."

The kid shook a bit in his arms but somehow Jack knew it wasn't just from the emotional turmoil coursing through him. This was something else. Just as he was about to pull back a bit to see if Mac was okay, the blond jerked out of his grasp, one hand over his mouth, and ran!

Jack bit back a curse as he followed. The pizza still hadn't arrived.

The alcohol on an empty stomach mixed with the elevated emotions coursing through the kid resulted in a whole different kind of turmoil.

Mac raced into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, effectively blocking Jack from having any access. No one liked to be seen in this kind of state. So, Jack respected the kid's wishes and waited outside the door.

* * *

' _Now, ordinarily this would not have been a big deal. I'm not a big drinker. Never have been, to be perfectly honest. But I still had a bit of experience with the after-effects of too much alcohol consumption – commonly referred to as a hangover. There are many reasons why I prefer to not over-indulge in the stuff.'_

MacGyver dropped to his knees in front of the toilet.

' _One, I don't eat the recommended three meals a day. Ideally, I eat when I'm hungry. But these past several days had been_ _anything_ _but ideal because sometimes I get so distracted with other things, I don't even notice that I'm hungry. Jack almost died and was in a coma for a week. I was poisoned. Jack almost died_ _again_ _. Any-way, I'm sure you all know what drinking on an empty stomach can do to a guy.'_

Bile then nothing. His ribs protested the retching currently assaulting him. He wanted to wrap one arm around his middle to offer them some support, maybe massage out the resulting cramps, but he needed both arms braced on the toilet seat to prevent the whole pitching into the toilet embarrassment.

' _Two, I like to always be in control of my faculties. And that includes my emotions. And, in this case, bruised ribs and a certain conversation about a certain nightmare with a certain best friend… well, let's just say, that control was precarious at best.'_

Unbidden, a tear slipped through the thin veil of Mac's self-control. His arms began to shake beneath his weight. He grit his teeth, determined to remain silent because he knew, he knew, that Jack was on the other side of that door.

' _But a man has his pride. Walls are erected, boundaries are set, all for this_ _exact_ _type of situation. Self-imposed solitary confinement always works best when the physiological and psychological are at war, fighting for precedence, inside your_ _own_ _body. Because sometimes a guy just needs a bit of privacy so he can slink off to the side and lick his wounds.'_

In the midst of one particularly excruciating set of dry heaves, a sob tore free. It was loud even to his own ears, echoing in the otherwise silent bathroom. Then the door opened.

' _And sometimes best-friend-father-figures completely disregard all pride, walls, and boundaries, and burst through the door, protective instincts raging and refusing to be ignored.'_

Jack took in the crumpled heap of blond genius on the floor in front of the toilet. He had done his own fair share of bowing down to the proverbial 'porcelain throne' in his day and didn't envy the kid. He crouched down next to him and could practically feel the abject misery emanating off him.

Without a word, Jack stood up, turned on the cold water faucet at the sink, and then grabbed a face cloth out of the linen closet. After soaking the cloth with cold water, he squeezed the excess out, then knelt next to his friend again. Gripping the clenched jaw with one hand, he turned Mac's face toward him. The blue eyes closed almost instantly but not before Jack saw the shame and humiliation in the tortured gaze.

"It's just you an' me here, brah," he said softly as he began wiping the mess off MacGyver's mouth and chin.

The chin suddenly jerked out of his grasp, Jack could do nothing but watch with sympathy as the kid started heaving again. Considering the state Mac was in right now, the small whimper that escaped shouldn't have surprised Jack but it did.

When the arms shaking with fatigue finally gave up, Jack's hands shot forward and braced the sagging shoulders just in time. Promptly ditching the role of spectator, he went down on his knees behind the quaking form and wrapped one arm around the slim waist. Then, ignoring the feeble squirm of protest, he cupped the clammy forehead with his other hand and leaned forward so that his chest was pressed against MacGyver's back. He might not be able to absorb the pain, but he could at least make sure the kid knew he was there and not going anywhere – that he had his back, so there was nothing to worry about.

Mac was simultaneously mortified and relieved. As much as he wanted to go it alone, he just _couldn't_ anymore. Which made him feel even more ashamed. Jack was always so independent. This would never happen to him. And yet, here Mac was, at his most vulnerable in the presence of the man he most respected in the world.

' _Nah, this wasn't the least bit humiliating. Not at all.'_

Jack could feel MacGyver's stomach constricting beneath his arm. Needing to do _something_ to alleviate the pain, he shifted positions a bit so that he could massage the cramping muscles into submission.

"I – I think… it's over… for… now," Mac panted, voice shaky and weak. He tried to pull himself out of Jack's embrace but instead found himself folded in closer as the other man gently hauled him away from toilet and leaned back against the wall, cradling MacGyver against his chest. He felt hands palming his face but didn't have the energy to swat them away. In fact, he was pretty sure a newborn kitten would have more strength than he had at that moment.

He hadn't realized how hot he was until something cool was pressed against his cheek. He leaned into it eagerly and heard a chuckle in response.

"Feels good, does it?"

He nodded, tracing the cloth's path as it moved across his face and down his neck.

"How about's we get you to bed, huh?"

Mac rolled his head back and forth. "Can't… move…"

"Come on, Mac. You'll be more comfortable in bed."

"Might… get… sick… again," he wheezed. Then, as if on cue, he lurched forward again with a choked sob. More bile made its presence known and he heaved some more. This time, he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face. "Jack," he all but whimpered, almost against his will.

"I hear ya', buddy." And, without another word, Jack maneuvered MacGyver around and scooped him up into his arms. He felt the fevered face push into the slope of his neck. In shame, if the hot tears that soon followed were any indication.

It was a quick trek from the bathroom to the king size bed. The covers were still folded back from the night before, so Jack just had to deposit the Mac onto the mattress. The blond tried to turn away from him and cocoon himself in the blankets, but Jack halted him with a hand on his chest. "Not yet, bud. Just give me a sec while I make you a bit more comfortable, okay?" Feeling well-rehearsed in Nursing MacGyver 101, Jack started to remove the kid's chinos, only to have his hands swatted away with a protesting growl.

Jack chuckled. If Mac was coherent enough to growl at him, he was confident the kid would be fine.

A knock at the door, pulled his attention away from the pride of young geniuses and back to the grumbling of hungry bellies. His, to be precise. "I'll be right back, kid," he said, grinning at the tired but petulant glare he got in return.

The knock sounded again. "I'm coming, I'm coming." He moved over to a door that was masquerading as a closet… but turned out to be an entrance into the adjoining room he had booked. Once he realized Mac would need twenty four hour surveillance, Jack had decided to keep the option of the other room a secret. Good thing, too, what with the only other access to the real world being blocked by the MacGyver-ism of the day.

Stepping into the other room, he moved straight to the main door and opened it. Leaning out into the hallway, he motioned the pizza delivery guy over to him. "Adjoining rooms," he explained with a smile.

* * *

A few minutes later, Jack was opening the pizza box and extracting a slice for himself. He felt a little bit guilty because Mac wasn't there to enjoy it with him but knew the kid would understand. Speaking of, he should probably check on him again before settling in to watch a Pay-Per-View movie – on Patty's dollar, of course, he thought with a smirk. It was the least she could do after he and Mac had proven her innocence a few months previous.

Devouring the slice in three bites, Jack returned to the bedroom. MacGyver's chinos and t-shirt were discarded on the floor but he had forgotten to cover himself up before passing out. Chuckling again, Jack walked over to the bed. He draped both the chinos and long-sleeved tee over the nearby armchair. He was about to pull the blankets over the slim form when something caught his eye.

He lifted MacGyver's arm for a closer examination. The pin prick via which the poison had been shot into his system was purple and filled with puss! Jack immediately pressed the back of his hand against the now alarmingly feverish forehead and cheek. Evidently, the vomiting had not been solely due to Jack's poorly executed plan of getting a young blond genius to open up to him.

An infection was currently coursing through his system, wreaking havoc on Mac's still healing body.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N I am so sorry for the delay in my posting of this chapter. Unfortunately, I had to meet some other deadlines in RL. :-( This one is a bit shorter than its predecessors but I'm hoping the next will be longer. I'm not entirely sure about this one. I have more to write but wanted to post something for you all! xoxo_

 _A/N2 I have very little medical knowledge, most of what's contained in this chapter is based on what I found with the help of Google._

Jack paced the length of the hotel suite several times. Still unable to reach Phoenix, he'd had to call the hotel doctor, and he was pretty sure he'd woken the poor guy up. He just hoped and prayed the good doc hadn't been on some kind of bender the night before because he needed him to be in top form.

His gaze fell on the increasingly feverish MacGyver shivering and twitching on the bed. Couldn't this kid catch a break? First, his ribs are bruised in a fight; then he has to endure the prospect of possibly losing Jack, with no support system present; as if that wasn't enough, he gets poisoned, taking the antidote with only seconds to spare; now he has an infection from the very needle that had administered the poison? Seriously?

Jack scrubbed his hands through his hair, remembering Mac's description of him as Captain America. He certainly didn't feel like a superhero right now, that was for darn sure. In fact, he'd been doing a piss-poor job of protecting the kid since this whole mission began!

A knock on the door signified the doctor's arrival. With one final glance at his ailing partner, Jack quickly made his way through the suite and into the adjoining room. He opened the door and leaned out into the hallway, motioning for the doc to hurry. Although perplexed, the man recovered quickly and approached the other hotel room at a trot.

Jack studied him with a critical eye. To his credit, the doctor endured the scrutiny like a man who'd had to prove himself on a number of occasions.

He was an older man with grey hair and glasses. His eyes weren't blood shot, his hands weren't shaking or twitchy. In fact, he appeared to be quite alert for a man his age who'd just been dragged out of bed for a medical emergency. Kind of reminded Jack of the doctor on _Little House on the Prairie,_ even had the black medical bag held firmly in one hand. Satisfied with what he saw, Jack said, "He's this way."

Following Jack through the suite, the doctor paused for a second to regard MacGyver's conglomeration with a tiny bit of awe, then continued down the hall into the master bedroom to examine his patient.

Jack watched as the doctor took Mac's temperature, brows rising at the readout that he apparently didn't feel obligated to share just yet. After hearing several 'tsk-tsk's' and 'hmmms', the Delta Commando had finally had enough. "Well, doc, what's the verdict?"

"Where do I begin? He has bruised ribs, along with several scrapes and contusions. He's dehydrated, malnourished, and has a high fever. However, my biggest concern is this infection on his arm." He paused, trying to choose his words carefully but deciding there was no time for diplomacy. "Is this young man an addict? If he is, I need to know in order to treat him properly."

Instead of becoming indignant, Jack actually laughed. "Mac? On drugs? No, doc, he is most definitely _not_ an addict."

The doctor seemed relieved, both with Jack's non-violent reaction and his answer. "Okay, good. I was unable to find any other needle marks but one can never be too careful, you understand. If I were to give him medication and other illicit drugs are already in his system, then the effects could be disastrous."

"I get ya', doc. I do. But Mac is the furthest thing from a drug addict that you could ever imagine. Kid's squeaky clean, in fact. In our line of work, unfortunately, bruised ribs are almost a daily occurrence but this," he indicated the puncture on Mac's forearm with disgust, "is not and, I promise you, was administered without his consent." The doctor's eyes widened at this revelation. "And it wasn't any kind of drug, either. It was poison." Now, the old man's eyes grew so large, Jack was sure the orbs were touching the glasses perched on his nose. "You can check with the HPD, if you don't believe me," he added, handing the doctor one of Officer Brian's business cards.

The older man took the card, even as he studied Jack. His gaze moved to MacGyver, still tossing and turning in his fevered sleep, then back to Jack. He handed the card back to him. "I am a pretty good judge of character and you seem to be an honourable young man. That, coupled with the distinct lack of track marks on this boy's arms, and I'm inclined to believe you."

"Thank you," Jack said sincerely. "For believing me, _and_ for calling me young," he added with a conciliatory wink. "But aren't there other more discreet places for track marks?"

Jack had never done drugs himself. Refused to touch the stuff, in fact. In his line of work, he had to be always on the alert and ready for anything but he found the unnatural ways of staying that way to be more detrimental than anything else. Even too much caffeine could make a guy jittery – not a good thing when your finger is on the trigger of a high-powered rifle. Even before his chosen career path, his dad woulda' torn him a new one if Jack had ever started taking drugs.

That said, he had seen one or two of his closest pals go from taking the occasional uppers to stay awake on long missions to shooting up several times a day – usually in an effort to forget what had happened on those long missions.

"Sure there are, son. But what out-of-towner just happens to have on hand the business card of one of the most respected men on the Halifax Police Department? Naw, if Brian liked you enough to slip you his card, that's good enough for me."

Jack had to remember to thank Officer Brian yet again. "All right then. What can you tell me about m' boy? Is he gonna be okay?"

MacGyver started murmuring in his sleep.

The doctor watched as Jack stepped over to sit on the edge of the mattress and pushed his hand through the sweat-dampened hair a few times. The murmuring stopped, the young face turning towards Jack, unconsciously seeking the other man's comfort. Not something commonly seen in his line of work these days and the doctor smiled warmly at the sight. "He will need anti-biotics to fight the infection, of course, or it could lead to sepsis and then septic shock."

"Septic shock? People can die from that, can't they?"

"Relax, son. We are not even close to that point in his journey yet. Was he to the hospital after he was poisoned?"

Jack grimaced. "No, he refused to go. I should have insisted –"

"It's okay," the doctor interjected quickly, seeing the self-recrimination building in the young man's eyes. "You had no way of knowing. But I'm assuming blood was taken at the scene?"

"Yeah," Jack replied, happy that he had done at least one thing right. "The paramedics said the hospital would call me if there were any issues."

"All right. Do I have your permission to follow up on that for you?"

"Absolutely, doc. Thank you."

"I'm happy to help." He removed a swab and small vial from his medical bag. "I also need to get a sample of the secretions from the site of the infection to confirm what type of antibiotics to prescribe. I'll send it to the hospital for testing," he explained, leaning down to get the sample while he spoke. He broke off the business end of the swab, slipped it into the vial, and screwed the top firmly in place. "I'll be sure to put a rush on the request," he informed Jack, as he secured a bandage overtop of the infected wound. "In the meantime, try to bring his fever down with cool water baths and keep him as comfortable as possible. Do you have ibuprofen?"

"No, all our medical supplies are on the plane."

The doctor quirked an eyebrow at that but decided not to pursue it. Instead, he reached into his medical bag again and pulled out a small bottle of ibuprofen and the digital thermometer he'd used earlier. He handed both to Jack. "On the house," he said with a wink. "You'll have to excuse the hotel humour. Force of habit."

"You don't have to explain to me, doc," Jack assured him. "This kid is always gettin' on my case for makin' too many puns," he added, smiling fondly down at the young blond.

"May I ask your relationship to the boy?" the doctor queried, unable to resist the mystery any longer. "You talk like you work together, but you look at him like it's much more than that."

"You got a good eye, doc. Protectin' him started out as a job but, before I knew it, he was more like a son to me than anythin' else."

"Unconditional love sneaks up on you," the doctor said.

"Sounds like you're speakin' from experience there, doc."

"I am," he grinned, picking up his medical bag and heading out of the room. "I can see myself out," he said. "You just concentrate on getting your boy's fever down. Right now, it's at 103. If it gets up to 104, a hospital visit may be necessary, after all. I'll contact you as soon as I hear anything back about the lab work and I'll have the concierge deliver some additional supplies to you, as soon as possible."

"Thank you, doc!"

"Anytime," and with that he was gone, leaving Jack alone with MacGyver once again.

"All right, kiddo," he said softly. "Let's get that temperature of yours down."

* * *

A few minutes later, Jack returned to the room with a large bowl of water and a washcloth. He set both down on the nightstand, then sat on the edge of the bed and got to work.

First, he soaked the washcloth in the cool water, wrung out the excess, and passed it over the fevered skin of Mac's face and neck. At first the kid pulled away from the touch, as if it hurt, but a moment later he was leaning into it. Jack smiled fondly at the blatant vulnerability in that one action. Mac hated to seem needy, even to his best friend, and almost always had his guard up. That guard had slipped a bit an hour or so ago, and now it seemed to have dissolved completely in the fever.

His ministrations continued over the chest, arms, and legs. Slipping a hand beneath MacGyver's neck, he eased the younger man forward until the fevered cheek was resting against Jack's chest and passed the cloth over the kid's back and shoulders.

After repeating this process a few times, he checked the temperature again and found he had managed to lower it to 102.7. Pleased with the change, he covered Mac up with the blanket and sat in the armchair next to the bed again.

No sooner had he sat down than one heartbreaking word slipped from between MacGyver's lips – _'Mom..'_

 _TBC_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N This chapter and chapter nine pretty much equal the average length of the previous chapters. I may join them together someday but for now, they shall remain as separate. I hope this makes up for my absence. Forgiven?_

 _A/N2 I'll try to get another chapter up soon but no guarantees as I still have a deadline to meet in RL._

 _A/N3 Also, just a point of note, since I'm pretty sure Mac's mom's name hasn't been provided in the reboot, I got it from the classic - and, let me tell you, it felt weird to use my first name in a story! lol Ellen was her name in the classic, I promise!_

Jack immediately sat forward on his chair, placing a hand on Mac's arm. This had always been a touchy subject for the kid. He never talked about it much and Bozer hadn't come into Mac's life until years later. All Jack knew was what he read in MacGyver's file and tiny snippets of information Mac had shared with him over the years, the most recent being the fact that he felt guilty having any happy memories about Mission City because that was where his mom had died.

Jack was pretty sure he'd helped the kid get some perspective on that, at least, based on his own experience with the death of his father. Still, if this fever had Mac reliving the death of his mother, the Delta Commando had absolutely no idea how to help with that. MacGyver was five when his mom died, so Jack could only hope that the walls hadn't been erected yet and the kid had at least grieved her death.

Either way, it was buried deep, and Jack knew their conversation back in Mission City had barely even scratched the surface.

* * *

 _MacGyver sat at the kitchen table, watching his mom, Ellen MacGyver, make breakfast. He recognized the house as the one he grew up in until his dad left him on his grandpa's doorstep. His mom was singing one of her favourite songs as she mixed the pancake batter up in a large bowl. 'Paper Roses' by Marie Osmond. He smiled at the memory of how she would always sing the lyrics to him in third person so he wouldn't think that she was accusing him of not truly loving her._

 _His gaze took in more details of the room. It was odd. The appliances seemed to be more like what he remembered from when he was twelve, as opposed to from back in the mid-1990's._

" _Where is everybody?"_

 _The voice had MacGyver's attention snapping to the kitchen door just in time to see Jack Dalton walk into the room. His hair was flattened against his scalp but stylish, and he was wearing tan slacks and a light blue shirt. He also looked to be about 10 years younger. Definitely different, but still Jack. Then MacGyver noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hands._

" _Hey, buddy," Jack said, ruffling Mac's hair with one hand as he passed._

 _Mac's jaw dropped as Jack placed a gentle kiss on his mother's cheek and handed her the bouquet of her favourite flowers – white and pink amaryllis. "Sorry, I'm late. I got stuck on a call. I'll be happy when these backshifts are over with, let me tell you." He turned his attention to MacGyver. "What are you doin' home from school, buddy?"_

" _He's not feeling well," Ellen told him. "He was all ready to go to school before he told me."_

" _That explains the pancakes. You don't make my favourite breakfast for me when I'm sick," he groused with a good natured pout._

" _If you were twelve, I would," she quipped back. "Besides, these_ _are_ _for you. MacGyver and I are just hanging out for a bit. He didn't want to go back to bed until you got home. How was work?"_

" _Same ol', same ol'," Jack said. Stepping over to the table, he hunkered down next to Mac's chair. "Those bullies still buggin' you at school, kiddo?"_

 _MacGyver found himself averting his eyes in shame. This dream just felt so darn_ _real_ _!_

" _Jack, that can't be the only reason. His temperature is up to 103." The worry in her tone became obvious for the first time in the conversation. Jack glanced over his shoulder at her, then returned his attention to MacGyver, placing his palm against the small forehead._

" _Stress can do crazy things," Jack told him. "But I'll admit that's a bit much." He stood and gripped MacGyver beneath the armpits, lifting him up and holding him against his chest. Mac was surprised to find himself wrap his arms around the broad shoulders and snuggle his face into Jack's neck._

" _You need some help with him?" Ellen asked._

" _Nah, we got this, don't we, bud?"_

 _The next thing MacGyver knew, they were up in his bedroom and Jack was helping him change out of his jeans and t-shirt and into his favourite Spiderman pyjamas. "Hey, Mac," Jack said, kneeling down in front of him once again. "You can come to me about anything. You're like the son I never had. You know that, right?"_

 _Mac's eyes filled with tears and he threw himself into Jack's arms. When the strong arms came up around him in return, he felt safer than he'd ever felt in years. "I wish you were my dad," he muttered into Jack's shoulder, his cheeks hot with tears._

 _His feet left the ground as Jack lifted him up again, rocking him back and forth as he paced the length of the room. Mac felt the feather light kiss on the back of his neck as Jack said, "Me, too, bud. Me, too."_

* * *

"Mac, wake up, kid. Mac!"

The blue eyes flew open, bright with fever and, Jack's heart broke to realize, tears. "Jack?"

"Yeah, kid, I'm here," he replied shakily.

"Where's my mom?"

That threw Jack for a loop. Mixing past and present realities? Was that even possible? Well, possible or not, it was happening. He gripped the forearm beneath his hand a bit tighter and said softly, "Your mom died, kiddo. A little over 20 years ago now. Remember?"

Mac shook his head in denial. "No, no, she was just here. She was making pancakes for you," he said, tears unmistakable in his voice.

Jack raised his eyebrows at the last statement. He'd tuck that away for a conversation later on. For now, he concentrated on the traumatized blond in front of him. Pushing the bangs off the feverish forehead, he said, "I'm so sorry, bud. You were dreaming."

Tears filled MacGyver's eyes. "But…" he looked around the room, saw that it wasn't his childhood bedroom. He studied Jack. He was still Jack but different. His hair was spiked up to a peak again. He was wearing the same type of black tee he always wore. And Mac would be willing to bet, he had on the matching black jeans, too.

And, just like that, reality came crashing down on him. His mom died when he was five. His dad left when he was twelve but Jack never stepped in as stepdad. "It felt so…"

"Real?" Jack supplied.

Mac nodded, unable to hold back the choked sob. "What's wrong with me?" he asked, swiping his tears away angrily.

It was meant as a rhetorical question but Jack answered anyway. "You've got a high fever and it's bringing all your emotions closer to the surface, bud. It's been a long week, why not cut yourself some slack?"

Jack watched as the proverbial walls went up. "Just let yourself _feel,_ Mac. I'll pick up the pieces afterwards, I promise." He could feel the arm beneath his hand trembling with the effort of keeping everything bottled up, each negative emotion in its own compartment, to be dealt with at a later date. Which usually meant never. Jack just couldn't let that happen. Not this time. So, for the second time that night, he kicked off his shoes and stretched out next to his friend.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Something I should've done a long time ago, kiddo." He pulled MacGyver against him, holding on tight.

At first, Mac pushed against him with every ounce of strength he had. "Lemme go!" But as his emotions continued to bubble to the surface, he felt more and more like the twelve year old who threw himself into Jack's arms, seeking comfort and shelter. His struggles became less and less until he found himself wrapping his arms around Jack's back and sobbing into the older man's chest.

His tears were for more than just his mom, though. They were for the life that could've been. The life in his dream that would have been so wonderful.

His mom alive. Jack as his new dad. There because he wanted to be, not just because he had to be.

But when Mac felt Jack's hand push through his hair and cup the back of his head; when he heard the soft shushing sounds; when he felt himself being rocked back and forth... He fell back to sleep with a startling revelation.

Half of his dream had come true.

His mom wasn't here with him. But Jack was.

TBC

Reviews are always welcome! ~ Kelcor


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Okay, this one ends in a bit lighter of a tone but there is still lots of h/c! I hope you all enjoy! ~Kelcor

 _It was so hot. The flames burned bright and close. Too close. He raced through the fire. Looking. Searching. Praying. He had to find him but there wasn't enough time. A pillar of flame fell from the ceiling, pinning him to the floor. He could feel the heat through his clothes but not as much as he should have. The fire wasn't eating through the fabric. Almost like he was wearing the fire retardant coat of a firefighter. Something else was weird. The pillar was… moving? He looked down it and couldn't believe his eyes. He had his arms wrapped around it, tendrils of flame licking his sleeves like a hungry dragon seeking its last meal._

" _Jack! I need your help!"_

 _The plea sounded so far away. Drifting into his subconscious, demanding to be heard. It wasn't like Jack could ever ignore that voice, anyway._

" _Jack, please!"_

 _This time, it sounded so close. Too close. Jack looked down again. He saw the blond strands of hair beneath the flames. Jack couldn't breathe. He was too late. MacGyver was burning up in his arms. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could…_

" _Jack!"_

* * *

Jack's eyes shot open. The ceiling above him was not on fire. That was a definite plus. The air was cool against his face - in comparison to the rest of him, anyway. So, why was he so unbelievably hot?

He looked down to find the source of the heat. MacGyver was sprawled out on top of him, thrashing about like he was fighting for his life. Memories of the past 24 hours came hurtling into the present, like an out of control train crashing into the station.

MacGyver. Poison. Infection. Emotionally traumatized.

Jack pressed the backs of his fingers against Mac's cheek. Yup. Definitely the source of the heat. He eased himself out from beneath his fevered friend.

"Jack! Jack, help me! Please!"

The words were so clear but MacGyver was clearly dreaming. And hot. Forcing down the first coils of panic threatening to engulf him, Jack searched frantically for the digital thermometer. He found it on the nightstand, next to the now room temperature bowl of water. He tried to place the digital reader in Mac's ear but the kid was thrashing around too much. With no other choice, Jack once again sat on the bed and pulled MacGyver against him. Dismayed at the increasing amount of heat coming off him, Jack absently prayed that he was exaggerating the intensity of it while he wrapped one arm around the slender chest to hold his friend still.

Mac bucked his hips, kicked his legs, even tried to bite Jack's arm, in his desperation to get free. Must be one monster of a nightmare for the kid to be fighting this hard. Nevertheless, Jack was able to put the thermometer into MacGyver's ear. A few seconds later, it beeped and Jack looked at the reading.

103.9!

No longer able to quell his panic, Jack scooped MacGyver up into his arms and raced into the bathroom. Setting Mac down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, he kept one arm wrapped around the slim waist, then reached into the shower and turned on the cold water. Knowing the dangers of cooling the kid too fast, he added a bit of hot water to the stream.

Mac was kicking out against his hold again but Jack was able to overpower him, lifting him and placing him beneath the cool stream of water.

MacGyver screamed with rage. Jack couldn't tell if the rage was directed at him or the assailant in the kid's dream. Either way, Mac never liked to feel trapped. Then again, who does, really?

With one arm still wrapped about Mac's waist, Jack added his other arm to the embrace, encasing the kid in an impenetrable bear hug. Angling his wrist a bit, he gripped MacGyver's forehead, as well, gently but firmly forcing the blond head back on his shoulder and, more importantly, the fevered face into the steady stream of water.

The sobs of defeat broke Jack's heart and he felt his own tears hot against his cheeks while he held his best friend completely immobile.

"Jack!" The broken whimper made Jack realize, he'd been so rushed to get the kid's fever down, he hadn't truly considered the effect the process could have on MacGyver's mental state. So, belatedly, he pressed his lips against Mac's ear and began whispering.

"It's okay, buddy. I gotcha. It's Jack. You're safe. I gotcha. Okay? I'm here, kiddo. I'm here."

A sudden sharp intake of breath was followed by, "J-Jack?"

Relief swelled inside Jack like he'd never felt before. "Yeah, buddy," he breathed softly. "Yeah, it's me. You're okay. I just gotta get your fever down, all right?"

With his head still pressed firmly back against Jack's shoulder, Mac nodded, his wet hair brushing across Jack's jaw.

Several minutes later, when MacGyver's flesh didn't feel like it was trying to burn itself right off his bones, Jack eased them both out of the shower. He deposited Mac on the toilet seat for the second time that night, then stepped out into the hallway to grab some towels. Just as he stepped back into the bathroom, a knock sounded at the door.

He quickly dried off as best he could, then placed the remaining towels on the vanity and raced through the suite and into the adjoining room. He opened the door and was surprised to see a young man about MacGyver's age staring back at him. The kid was even thinner than Mac, which Jack wouldn't have thought possible, but his piercing blue eyes were similar as he handed three large bags across the threshold. Immediately, Jack's belly grumbled as a delectable aroma assaulted his senses.

Barely reacting to Jack's disheveled state, the concierge smiled kindly. "Hi, my name's Trevor. I'm the head concierge here. Doctor Mike had me do a bit of shopping for you."

Jack peeked into one of the bags – clothes. The second bag contained more clothes. The third was one of the large reusable bags you'd find at a large department store filled with groceries – fruit, veggies, Gatorade and juice. Nothing that attributed to the mouth-watering aroma but still a Godsend.

"Oh, and this, too," Trevor said quickly, pulling a prescription bag out of his inside pocket. "He says the instructions are inside the bag but that his home phone number is, too, in case you need to call." The kid reminded Jack even more of MacGyver when a blush crept up to his cheeks. "The doc told me a bit about your situation, so I took it upon myself to call in a favour from one of the restaurants in town." He leaned down and plucked a paper bag up off the hallway floor.

He handed the bag to Jack, whose belly grumbling came out in full force and he realized he'd only eaten a slice of pizza in the past two days. Even longer, if you counted the time he was in a coma and only receiving nourishment through an IV.

"I just figured you might be hungry. I hope that's okay," Trevor intoned, unnerved by Jack's continued silence. "Sometimes protein tastes best when it's inside a juicy steak."

In response, Jack pulled the concierge into a hug. Trevor's arms remained at his sides, back rigid, clearly not used to this kind of gratitude in his line of work. Jack chuckled at yet another similarity to Mac and pulled away, keeping his hands on the slim shoulders. "Sorry, Trevor," he said, "it's been an overwhelming couple of days. The people in this city are even friendlier than I remembered."

Recovering from his embarrassment quickly, Trevor smiled. "We do have a reputation to uphold, after all."

"That you do," Jack agreed. "Tell the doc I said thanks. You can leave the hug out, if you prefer," he added jokingly.

"I do," the concierge nodded. "Not sure the doc would, though. He's a bit of a hugger, too." He started to make his way back to the elevator. "Oh," he said, turning around. "I know your friend is sick, so I only ordered one steak, but if you want another when he's feeling better, just let me know."

"Will do," Jack promised, knowing how much MacGyver would love a good steak dinner after this ordeal.

Placing the contents from the paper bag in the oven to keep warm, Jack returned to the bathroom and froze mid-step. Mac was gone!

Heart amping up in speed, Jack raced into the bedroom. He sighed with relief when he saw the young man in question slouched on the bed with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Mac? You okay, brother?"

The blond head slowly came up to meet his gaze. The flushed cheeks made Jack think another shower was in order, then he saw the look of shame in the blue eyes. "I'm sorry, man," he began. "Your fever was at 103.9." This revelation made MacGyver's eyes widen in shock. "The doc said if it reached 104, I'd need to take you to the hospital."

"I get it," the kid mumbled. "Doesn't make it any less mortifying, but I get it."

"Then what is it? What's wrong?"

The blush got brighter. "All our clothes are on the plane, Jack. The ones I have are either filthy or soaked. I have nothing to change into."

Jack smiled. "Oh, is that all?"

MacGyver's eyebrows rose. "Isn't that enough?"

Laughing with relief that the kid was returning to his normal snarky self, Jack held up both bags of clothes. "Doctor Mike was kind enough to send us a care package."

"Who's this doctor you keep mentioning?"

Jack pointed at the inside of his elbow and Mac looked down at the bandage hanging off his arm. "I was wondering about that," he mumbled.

"It became infected," Jack explained. "I had to either take you to emerge or call someone to us. Since my rental is back at the kid's apartment, I figured it'd be easier to call someone in."

MacGyver nodded absently, then his head shot up, eyes wide with alarm this time as he jumped to his feet. "The kids! Are they okay?" The rapid change in altitude had him swaying on his feet. Jack leapt forward and grabbed him by the arm, easing him back down onto the mattress.

"You're not at a 100% yet, kiddo. Let's keep the leaping tall buildings to a minimum, okay?"

"Jack – "

"Relax. The kids are safe and sound, I promise. A cop they trust is taking care of them. We'll touch base with them once you're free and clear of this infection."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Jack said, raising his hand in a three-fingered salute. When Mac arched a brow, he added, "What? Not everyone was kicked out of the boy scouts, dude. Which is still a story I need to hear, by the way."

"Don't hold your breath," MacGyver muttered.

"What was that?"

"Uh, I said, can I get some clothes?"

"You know," Jack grinned, "when that kinda thing happens, you're supposed to replace what you said with something that at least sounds somewhat similar. You didn't even try."

"I'm too tired," Mac admitted.

"Yeah, I believe that," the older man conceded, placing his palm on MacGyver's forehead, then cheek.

MacGyver knew it was pointless to fight Jack when he was in full-on mother hen mode, so he allowed the ministrations. Unexpectedly, however, he found himself leaning into Jack's touch, earning a deep chuckle from his friend. He looked up to see Jack watching him with a fond smile.

"Still feverish but not on fire."

"Can I get dressed now?" Mac had meant the words to be exasperated but they instead sounded exhausted.

Jack dug through the bags and came out with a t-shirt, boxers, and sweatpants.

"Seriously? You're picking out my clothes for me, now?"

With a smirk, Jack started to walk away, proffered items still in his hands. "Well, if you'd rather spend the rest of the day in a towel…"

"No," Mac insisted, lunging forward a bit and grabbing Jack by the wrist.

Unnerved by the lack of strength in his friend's grip, Jack turned back and handed him the clothes. "That's what I thought," he deadpanned.

But when MacGyver locked eyes with him, the blond was surprised to find unabashed fear and concern in the other man's eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Your fever was really high," Jack told him as explanation, his voice breaking a bit on the last word. "I wasn't sure – "

"You did good, Jack. I don't know how you always manage to put my welfare above everything else but you do. And I'm thankful," Mac said, putting as much sincerity as he possibly could into his gaze. He was surprised to see a bit of a blush taint Jack's cheeks"

 _I wish I had my camera right now because I am absolutely positive that I have never seen Jack blush before!_

"I'll always have your back," Jack said quietly. "Now, get dressed," he added more forcefully as he started for the door. Then he halted and turned back. "Unless, you need – "

"No," MacGyver growled. He knew it had been the correct response when Jack chuckled again and left the room. Mac couldn't stop the small grin forming. He really did love the big lug.

* * *

Because Mac still had a fairly high fever, Jack insisted that he take it easy. However, with the insistence that he'd slept enough, the blond was able to convince the mother hen to allow him to 'take it easy' while sitting on the sofa. They rented the original Star Wars trilogy on Pay-Per-View, both agreeing that the prequels left much to be desired, and Mac was even able to convince Jack to share a few bites of steak with him before taking his antibiotics as prescribed by the now famous Doctor Mike.

His taste buds loved the flavour of the steak but, admittedly, it was a little too much for his recently assaulted stomach to tolerate. However, it didn't make a reappearance, either, so Mac took that as a win.

Watching the movie together felt like heaven compared to the past week and a half. As his mind drifted, MacGyver couldn't help but recall the many times he had almost lost Jack on this mission. He'd never been so thankful for the word 'almost' in all his life. Wondering if Jack had any idea how important he was to him, Mac glanced over at his friend… and was shocked to find the other man fast asleep! But, then he realized, when would he have gotten any sleep since getting out of the hospital? Between searching for MacGyver, fighting off the bad guys, and being there for the fall out – like he always was – there would have been very little time left for Jack to recuperate, as well.

Mac couldn't help but feel a little guilty about that. Jack was always, _always_ there for him. No matter what.

 _My own personal superhero._

He grinned at that thought. The fact that the word 'superhero' kept coming up in his internal musings about his friend had to mean that it was true. Right?

Jack was the one who needed taking care of this time. As exhausted as Mac was, he struggled to his feet and grabbed a blanket from the linen closet, then returned to drape it over Jack's sleeping form. He stood at the sofa, blanket hanging loosely from his hands, watching Jack for a moment.

It wasn't very often that his friend fell asleep while MacGyver was still awake. And the rare times it had happened, Mac hadn't almost lost him so many times previous. Tilting his head to the side, deep in thought, he noticed perhaps for the first time how innocent, young and peaceful Jack Dalton looked in sleep.

MacGyver hadn't realized he'd zoned out until a loud snore erupted from the former Commando, pulling him out of his musings.

 _So much for 'peaceful'. What is it they say? Two out of three ain't bad?_

Smiling fondly, Mac chuckled as he leaned forward to drape the blanket over Jack but paused mid-movement. Noticing the odd angle of Jack's neck, he re-situated the pillows first, then eased Jack down onto his side. Next, he removed his friend's shoes and lifted the long legs onto the sofa, noting that the man must truly be exhausted if he was sleeping through all these ministrations.

Eyes heavy, MacGyver decided to return to the bedroom for some sleep of his own, then suddenly realized he was still holding the blanket in his hands.

 _You know you're tired when._

When Mac turned back and spread the blanket out over top of him, Jack murmured in his sleep. He sounded in distress. Completely out of his element here, MacGyver sat down on the edge of the sofa, debating on whether or not to wake him. He was clearly fatigued. But, honestly, so was MacGyver. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. His movements were beginning to feel sluggish. Part of him knew it was the antibiotics but his mind was fuzzy. Regardless, he shook his head a bit to get rid of the cobwebs because Jack needed him.

"Jack?" he whispered uncertainly. "Are you okay, buddy?"

* * *

 _Jack had searched high and low. Upstairs and down. Every single room. MacGyver was nowhere to be found. Jack had failed in his mission. It was his job to keep the kid safe. But not only a job. A responsibility. Mac was more like a son to him than anything else, and parents are supposed to keep their kids safe. No matter what._

 _Then he opened one final door and there he was. MacGyver. Standing in the middle of the room. The blond looked at him quizzically. "Jack? Are you okay, buddy?"_

 _Without wasting another moment, Jack strode over to the kid and pulled him into a rough embrace. He felt him struggle at first but that was to be expected. Jack didn't care. He was just so dang happy to have found the kid, he might never let go again._

* * *

Without warning, Jack's arms shot out and pulled Mac down on top of him, knocking the wind out of the blond with a whoosh! He squirmed and pushed against the broad chest but there was absolutely no give to the muscular frame. He managed to wiggle enough to turn so that his back was to Jack's chest but soon realized that was a mistake because he now had nothing to push against to get free and couldn't reach anything to latch onto and pull himself out of the embrace. And now, his legs were up on the sofa, as well.

So, they were effectively _spooning._ Perfect.

"Jack," Mac whispered harshly. "Jack!" A bit louder but not loud enough. He was tempted to yell at the top of his lungs to wake the man up but then remembered it was his turn to take care of Jack.

He vaguely remembered, in snippets really, Jack consoling him while he vomited, trying to lower his temperature with a cool washcloth, holding him while he cried about his mom, standing in a cool shower with him when his temperature got dangerously high. He had been with him every step of the way. Not backing away from what needed to be done, even if it made him feel uncomfortable.

With a sigh, Mac decided he could endure one more cuddle-puddle if it was going to make Jack feel better. He still flushed with embarrassment at the vulnerability this implied, even as his eyes got heavier and heavier.

"I swear, Jack," he muttered sleepily. "If you aren't truly asleep, I will so get you back for this."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

A/N The plan is for Jay and Toby to return in the next chapter but, at this point, who knows. They will return before the end of this little story but I never know where my muse is going to take me. Any thoughts from you are welcome and appreciated. :-) Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews, favourites, and follows. :-)

 _Waking up was slow and sluggish. The pain in his right arm alternated between sharp agony and a dull ache. He still felt Jack's embrace behind him and was embarrassed to be both annoyed and comforted by it. He vaguely remembered his dream about his mom being alive and Jack being his stepdad, and wished fervently that had been how it had really happened._

 _But Mac knew all too well that once his mom was gone, once the ALS had finished its slow and painful process of taking her away from them, his dad just hadn't known how to deal. He'd never really been a hands-on type of father to begin with, really._

 _His mom had given up her job as a Physics teacher so that she could stay at home and take care of MacGyver. From what he could remember, his dad hadn't really been around much. He and his mom had spent so much time together, she'd eventually dubbed them the two musketeers and Mac had been too young to realize that there was supposed to be a third. By the time he did, his mom was dead and he was basically alone because his dad had thrown himself even more into his work._

 _The man had never said it in so many words but as MacGyver got older, he began to realize that his father hadn't really wanted kids. Which meant one of two things –_

 _His inner musings were interrupted by a soft clicking and scraping noise. He couldn't quite place it but whatever it was made the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. Remembering the security system he had created the morning before – was that really only 24-hours ago? – Mac forced himself to remain calm…_

 _Until he heard the lock disengage and the door open with a soft creaking noise. His heart stuttered a bit in trepidation as he also remembered Jack saying that the group who had crashed the plane and poisoned Mac could still have members somewhere in the city ready, willing, and even anxious to finish the job of their predecessors._

 _He opened his mouth to wake Jack but instantly felt a hand clamp over his mouth. The arm around his midsection, also tightened. "Shhh," Jack whispered. "I hear 'em."_

 _They both sat up and Jack reached for his gun which he had apparently slipped under the sofa for easy reach. Clearly, the ex-CIA, ex-Delta Commando, and current superhero was more apprehensive about their situation than he'd let on._

 _Jack placed a strong hand on MacGyver's shoulder. "Stay here," he mouthed, then placed his index finger against his own lips signaling Mac to also stay quiet._

 _MacGyver grabbed a firm hold of Jack's wrist, the fear he felt clear in his eyes. In response, Jack gave him a thumbs up and a tiny grin, and then he was gone. The sound of gunfire brought Mac quickly to his feet but after that, he was rooted to the spot._

 _He couldn't back away because that would somehow translate to abandoning Jack, which was unacceptable. He also couldn't bring himself to approach the corner Jack had disappeared behind and risk distracting his friend, or worse, seeing him already dead._

 _So, MacGyver stayed where he was and prayed to a God science almost consistently negated, yet in Whom his mom had always believed despite her scientific mindset when it came to anything else. Mac wasn't sure which side of the debate he stood on right now but, if it meant the possibility of keeping Jack alive, he was willing to lean towards a hesitant belief._

 _His gaze swept the room in search of something, anything, he could use to help. But there was nothing. Nothing! How could that be? Every time he thought he had an idea, it would disappear from his mind._

 _Silently cursing the drugs in his system, the fever, anything that could be effecting his thought processes, Mac stared at the corner as familiar voices came closer and closer. Finally, Jack emerged. Except, his hands were raised in the air. He was talking to someone, while glancing expectantly at MacGyver._

 _Of course, he was. This was usually the point where Mac came up with some fantastic idea to save the day. Only, he couldn't this time. His brain just wouldn't cooperate._

 _His gaze having been locked on Jack up to this point, everything seemed to move in slow motion as yet another person rounded the corner – the Suit. Followed quickly by Brass Knuckles and Thug Number Three. The Suit had his gun leveled on Jack._

 _Without another word. He fired! Three times. Each slug hit centre mass, knocking Jack Dalton off his feet and into the wall behind him._

" _Noooo!" MacGyver launched himself at the Suit, tackling him to the ground. He grabbed the gun out of his hand but instead of aiming and firing, he took more pleasure in sitting on top of him and using the weapon to pummel the guy in the face, over and over again._

 _Suddenly, the cops were there, pulling Mac off the spy who was now bleeding profusely through his nose and mouth. The blond watched as they slapped handcuffs on the Suit's wrists, then saw that Brass Knuckles and Thug Number Three were already being led out of the room. He took some satisfaction in seeing that the Suit had to be carried._

 _Reluctantly, MacGyver allowed his gaze to travel the few feet to his left where Jack was sprawled on the floor. He couldn't see anything on the black tee but the white carpet beneath him was soaked in blood. Mac crawled over to him. Avoiding the sightless eyes staring up at him, he simply held Jack's hand._

 _He vaguely heard explanations from a uniformed cop he kind of recognized, telling him that they found the terror cell somewhere outside the city and, putting two and two together, figured they should get here to provide assistance as soon as possible._

 _MacGyver felt himself be manhandled away from Jack's body and settled onto the sofa again. He stared at his hands covered in blood. Jack's blood. Which was odd because he couldn't remember touching anywhere other than Jack's hand._

 _The coroner slipped Jack into a black body bag, then rolled him away on a stretcher. Mac leapt to his feet, wanting to see his friend one last time,_ _try to save him. A woman appeared in front of him. She eased him back down. "There's nothing you can do for him now, dear. Why don't you get some rest?" she suggested as she gently pushed him back against the cushions and lifted his legs up onto the sofa. "You look exhausted."_

" _No," MacGyver insisted. "I'm – I'm not tired." He pushed against her but she was incredibly strong for her size and he was unable to sit up again. Seeing the needle descending down to his arm, Mac panicked and tried with renewed strength to sit up. His efforts proved moot, however, when the needle pricked his flesh and he felt a warm sensation working its way through his veins. He fought the lethargy but quickly lost that battle, too._

* * *

MacGyver's eyes popped open. He was sprawled out on the sofa, alone in the living room. It took a moment for the memory to hit but when it did, it was like getting hit by a truck! The tears streamed down his cheeks and Mac couldn't be bothered to hide them. There was no one to hide them from, anyway.

Jack was dead. Jack was dead. Jack was…

"Hey, Mac, are you up yet? Cuz I finally got through to Patty and told her, as long as you're feeling better…" Jack came into the living room dressed in a pair of blue jeans and white tee, and drying his hair with a towel. His voice trailed off as soon as he saw Mac staring at him, eyes wide as saucers, mouth agape. "Are you okay? Is it the onslaught of sudden colour in my wardrobe? Doc Mike had the concierge buy – "

His words were promptly cut off as MacGyver stood up from the sofa, stalked over to him in three large strides, and engulfed him in a hard embrace.

"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed, caught off guard but wrapping his arms around Mac in return. Then he felt the wetness on his neck, the shaking shoulders. "Hey, hey," he whispered, pulling away slightly to see his friend's face. "What's wrong? What is it?" He saw the flushed cheeks beneath the streaks of tears and pressed the backs of his fingers against Mac's forehead. "Your fever's spiking again," he said worriedly, sitting Mac back down on the sofa and turning back toward the bathroom. "Let me go get the thermometer."

Mac grabbed him by the arm with both hands, hauling him back. "Please, don't go," he begged.

Jack took one look at the panicked gaze and promptly sat down next to him, pulling the kid into his arms. For once, MacGyver didn't resist. He just nestled himself in closer, literally clinging to Jack like he'd never done before. Cinching him closer, tucking him under his chin, Jack carded his hand through the blond strands and, deciding it best to simply ride out the storm, rocked the kid back and forth.

He knew the temperature read could wait a bit. Besides, he had more important things to worry about right now – like an armful of blond genius who was clearly traumatized again. Something caused by the fever, no doubt. Because when Jack had woken up a couple hours earlier to find Mac fast asleep in his arms, he'd seemed fine. A little warm but fine. Now, he was burning up again. And sobbing.

No way was that a coincidence.

Several long minutes later, the tears stopped and Mac pulled away from him, eyes averted in shame. Jack gave him a moment to collect himself and grabbed the thermometer from the bathroom. He hadn't thought to tell MacGyver he was going and kicked himself for that blunder when he returned to find the kid looking shell-shocked yet again, eyes locked on the corner he'd disappeared behind. And it was almost as if he had been holding his breath until Jack's return.

Sitting down next to him again, Jack dropped his arm across Mac's shoulders in comfort, then placed the thermometer in the kid's ear. A few seconds later, it beeped and sure enough, the fever had rocketed back up to 102.

"I'm gonna assume that you had some kind of fever dream and judging by your reaction when I left the room just now, I'm also gonna assume that I died again."

Mac nodded but refused to look at him. Jack took him by the chin and forced eye contact. "These dreams need to stop, bud. I'm not gonna die, okay?"

"You can't promise that, Jack," the kid whispered. "Not in our line of work. No one can."

"You're right, I can't," Jack conceded. "But I can tell you, I'm not gonna die on this mission. Like I said earlier, I spoke to Patty. All the members of the group after that list have been rounded up and imprisoned. There is no more danger to me _or_ you on this mission. Got it?"

MacGyver nodded, his eyes filling with tears of relief. Jack snatched up the bottle of antibiotics, then went to the kitchen to get a bottle of Gatorade out of the refrigerator. On his way back, he also grabbed a cup towel and wet it with cold water.

"Here," he said to Mac, offering a pill and the bottle of Gatorade to wash it down with. "Take this."

Hands still shaking, MacGyver did as he was told, then Jack retook his seat at his side and started passing the cool towel over the heated skin of his face and neck. He smiled when, instead of pulling away, Mac merely sighed and leaned into the touch. "I'll call Patty and push back the exfil a few days. Why don't you get some sleep?"

MacGyver sat up straight again and shook his head vehemently. "I'm not tired, Jack."

"Funny, cuz you look about ready to collapse from a mixture of exhaustion and fever. This isn't up for debate, kiddo," Jack told him seriously. "I don't know much about medical stuff but your temperature fluctuating like this can't be healthy. Can it?"

"No," Mac agreed reluctantly. "It's just…"

"What?"

"Every time I sleep, I either have nightmares and wake up terrified or I have really good dreams and…"

"Wake up sad that they're not real?" Jack guessed. "Tell me about the dream with your mom," he said, not wanting to dredge up bad memories for the kid but feeling like some kind of revelation was hidden beneath the dream.

"I don't really remember it."

"Bull," Jack said, calling his bluff.

Mac shrugged. "It was no big deal, she was just making me breakfast."

"No, you said she was making _me_ breakfast."

"I did?"

The blond looked up at him, obviously having forgotten telling him anything at all about the dream. "Yeah, you did. So, out with it, bro." Jack held eye contact with him until the kid finally caved.

"Fine. I was 12 and I was home sick from school. Mom was making pancakes and…" he paused, unsure if he wanted to do this or not. Jack nudged him. "Can I just paraphrase it for you?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope," Jack told him stubbornly. "I want all the details." Suddenly, though, Jack was the one who was self-conscious. "Unless, you don't want me to know."

"It's not that. It's just… embarrassing."

"You can tell me anything, bud. You know that."

Mac smiled. "You said that in the dream, too."

"So, I was a good guy in this dream?"

Mac's head shot up at that. "Why would you even ask me that?"

"Well, I don't know," Jack said with a shrug. "Maybe that's why you don't wanna tell me, cuz maybe I was a jerk or something."

"No, Jack, you were… great, actually."

"Okay, now I have _got_ to hear this."

"Oh, man," Mac groaned inwardly, then started again. "Okay, I was 12 and home sick from school and mom was – "

"Making pancakes, you already told me that, dude," Jack teased, rolling his hand in a 'get on with it' motion. The kid's eyes were getting heavier but Jack still had the distinct feeling that this dream was important.

MacGyver yawned. "I was surprised because mom died when I was five, y'know? Anyway, then you came in with a bouquet of flowers and kissed my mom on the cheek, apologizing for being late."

Jack's eyebrows rose at this detail but he didn't interrupt.

"You asked why I wasn't in school and mom told you I was sick but wanted to… she said I didn't want to go to bed until you got home," Mac revealed, blushing slightly. "You asked me if the bullies were bugging me at school again, I guess you figured that's why I was wanting to stay home."

"Stress for kids _can_ lead to physical symptoms," Jack agreed thoughtfully.

Mac looked at him, surprised at the wisdom despite the exhaustion clear in his eyes. "Yeah, you said that in the dream, too. But mom told you that my temperature was something like 103. So, you…" The blush on his cheeks brightened, and Jack could almost guarantee it wasn't just the fever. "You, uh, carried me upstairs and helped me get ready for bed. That's it. End of dream."

The fact that the kid wouldn't meet his eyes told Jack differently. "No, it's not. What aren't you tellin' me?"

"Jack," MacGyver said, tone pleading.

"Come on, kid, you got this far."

The blond took a deep, seemingly fortifying breath, which encouraged yet another, even deeper yawn. Jack shifted, pressing his back into the armrest and corner of the sofa, then stretched one leg behind MacGyver. Gently, he tilted Mac towards him.

The kid didn't even notice at first that his shoulder was pressed into Jack's sternum, until he felt the bandage on Jack's leg pressing into his back. "Your leg," he said with concern, pulling away.

Jack just eased him back down. "You're fine. My leg's fine. We're all fine. Now, what aren't you telling me about the dream, kiddo?"

Mac's voice was sluggish. He was drifting off to sleep even as he said, "I told you that I wished _you_ were my dad…" Jack gasped, then cinched the kid even closer to him. "…and you said that you did, too." Another jaw cracking yawn. "Then you picked me up again… and held me until I fell asleep…"

MacGyver's breathing evened out, while Jack's hitched a bit as Mac's words reverberated in his head. _'I told you that I wished you were my dad... and you said that you did, too.'_ A tear slipped down Jack's cheek. "That I do, kiddo. That I do."

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N I am so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! I'm actually also writing a YA Novella and had to try to keep those characters separate from Mac &Jack in my head! On the upside, I was finally able to finish this chapter. :-D On the downside, I'm still working with my editor on trying to perfect my novella, so it may be another bit before I'm able to post chapter 14! :-( I was fully intending on making this the final chapter (again! lol) but I didn't want to keep y'all waiting any longer! I hope there are still some of you who are still interested in this update. I have an idea for another Mac&Jack fanfic but I'm going to try keeping my future stories to one shots so that I don't leave people hanging for so long when I'm unable to update as quickly as I'd like._

 _A/N 2 My apologies also for the 'touristy' descriptions. I haven't been home in 11 years and I fear I was a bit too nostalgic in this particular chapter. *blush*_

 _A/N 3 For those of you who are still interested, I hope you enjoy this installment. Not as much h/c as I usually put in but I hope it's still a fun read. :-) I look forward to hearing all your thoughts! :-D ~Kelcor_

Consciousness returned in slow increments. MacGyver wanted nothing more than to stay asleep. His dreamscape had been filled with fond memories of his mom, intermingled with more fantasies of Jack being his stepdad. This time, as awareness of the real world returned, Mac felt a sense of melancholy but at some point during this mission – or perhaps even before – he had come to realize that Jack had stepped in to play that role. Granted, he was 20 or so years late but, in this case especially, better late than never.

Despite the undeniable pull to return to dreamland, Mac slowly opened his eyes. Because the pull to wake up was even stronger. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He could feel it.

He scanned the room, searching for Jack. No lights were on. And it was the middle of the night, so the only illumination was provided by the moon outside their window; creating more shadow than anything else.

The longer it took to spot Jack, the more frantic MacGyver became. He reached behind him to switch on the lamp on the end table.

"Leave it off," Jack ordered. His voice seemed to emanate from the gloom itself but what concerned Mac was the tone. His friend was trying to hide it but an irrefutable sadness was lurking beneath the words.

"Jack? What is it? What's wrong?" Instead of turning on the light, MacGyver waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Now that he had a direction to focus on, it didn't take long for the dark lump in the chair at the other end of the sofa to coalesce into a hunched over Jack Dalton. One elbow was resting on the arm of the chair, his forehead pressed into the palm.

Mac instantly stood up and moved over to sit on the coffee table directly across from Jack, ensuring that their knees touched to offer a sort of physical support in the darkness. Jack clearly needed to know that he wasn't alone. With that thought in mind, MacGyver reached out and gripped the other man's wrist.

"Are you okay?" he asked, feeling his desperation increase. His gaze moved down to the bandage on Jack's thigh, also encased in darkness. "Is it your leg?" he demanded, reaching out again to turn on the closest light, only to have the movement halted by Jack's quick reflexes.

"No lights, dude," he insisted. "And my leg is fine."

"Well, then, what is it, man? You're scaring me here."

"They found Milo's body," Jack revealed, sitting up straighter, likely unconsciously trying to put some distance between them. As sensitive as Jack Dalton was, he was still a proud man.

The hitch in his friend's voice, followed by a discreet sniffle, did nothing to allay Mac's fears. "Where?" He reached out again, this time gripping the tense shoulder across from him.

"A few miles away from our last exfil. Killed execution style. They just left his body there for the wild animals to feast on, man."

"I'm sorry, Jack. I know, you two were close."

"Not as close as you and me," Jack admitted. "But, yeah, we were close. He was a good man, Mac."

"I know." This wasn't really MacGyver's wheelhouse. For all of Jack's lack of grammar skills, he was the one who always knew what to say in times like these. As for Mac… well, he was pretty much floundering.

Once again, Jack seemed to read his mind. "You don't have to say anything, kid. I'm fine."

"No. You're really not, Jack."

Mac felt rather than saw the man's shrug. "Yeah, well, I will be."

MacGyver knew from firsthand experience the kind of friend Jack was – self-sacrificing, kind, loving, and steadfastly loyal. It was hard to find friends like that and Mac would be forever grateful that he had.

Jack had a big heart; huge, actually. And, when your heart's that big, you feel things stronger than most other people. Which was why MacGyver knew Jack was _anything_ but _fine_. This was hitting Jack hard. The quiver he felt in the older man's shoulder was testament to that. He was trying to be strong – for Mac, no doubt.

And that was when MacGyver figured it out.

 _Okay, I admit it. For a guy that some people consider to be a genius, I can be pretty dumb sometimes. Because it took that long for me to realize that, more often than not, actions speak louder than words._

Taking a page from Jack's playbook, Mac reached up and placed his hand on the back of his friend's neck, squeezing gently. As heartbreaking as the choked sob was, it told Mac that he'd made the right move. But now what? Working on instinct alone now, the blond stood up and sat on the arm of the chair, stretching his arm across the broad shoulders.

He gave a gentle tug. After just a brief hesitation, Jack accepted the invite and leaned to the side, resting his forehead on MacGyver's chest. Other than the first sob, Jack's tears were silent but Mac could feel the shaking beneath his hand as he rubbed up and down his friend's arm and back.

MacGyver wasn't sure how much time had passed but, eventually, he felt the ex-Delta Commando's weight press heavier into his side. He waited several more minutes, wanting to be absolutely sure that Jack was in a deep sleep, then he eased his friend back into the chair and covered him with a blanket. As an afterthought, he carefully slipped a pillow beneath Jack's head.

Returning to the sofa now, Mac wasn't at all sure he'd be able to get back to sleep but as soon as he closed his eyes, the dreams of step-dad Jack returned full force and he allowed himself to be pulled gently into slumber.

* * *

The next morning, Jack tried his best to act like his happy-go-lucky self. But if you knew what to look for, which MacGyver did, a distinct sadness still hovered beneath the surface. Grief was a process. Just because the blond usually ignored the process, didn't mean he wasn't aware of it.

Watching his friend go through the motions of a positive, sunshine-y day, Mac set about making plans for their final day in the beautiful city of Halifax, Nova Scotia. He went online and searched for some of the restaurants and landmarks Jack had mentioned during their stay; as well as anything else he figured his friend would enjoy. The more he researched, the more he resolved to come back to visit again.

He had originally been planning to fly Jay and Toby out to visit him in L.A. a few times a year. And that was still totally the plan because he couldn't wait for the boys to meet Bozer and Riley; even Thornton would probably develop a soft spot for the two orphans. But now, he decided to throw in a few trips of his own so he could visit the kids here.

The wonderful Google Maps allowed Mac to plan out an itinerary that would be perfect for distracting Jack from his pain and loss. A quick phone call also secured Jay and Toby for a special dinner that evening. He knew Jack would be thrilled to see them but not as excited as they were sure to be to see Jack. The guy had a way of worming his way into your heart and staying there for the rest of eternity.

Something else Mac knew from personal experience.

Not wanting to waste any more of beautiful summer day, Mac printed off their itinerary and found Jack in the kitchen eyeing the admittedly dwindling contents in the fridge. "What do you think the chances are that our friendly neighbourhood concierge would be willing to make a grocery run for us?"

"No need to bother Trevor," Mac told him.

Jack looked up at him with a pained look on his face, except this time it wasn't an emotional pain he was exhibiting. "Dude! I'm hungry," he said, his petulance putting a tiny grin on MacGyver's face. "Oh, great," Jack grumbled. "I'm glad you find my starvation amusing."

"You're not starving, Jack," MacGyver scoffed lightly at his friend's exaggeration. "But we're _both_ hungry," he added.

"Great!" Jack said, rubbing his hands together with forced glee and pulling out his cell phone to call Trevor. Mac knew it was an act for his benefit but he was willing to play along. Because, for Jack, mind over matter really did work. If he pretended to be happy, eventually it would make it all the way to his heart and make the emotion real.

So, instead of calling his friend on the bluff that was clear only to MacGyver's eyes, he held up the recently printed itinerary. "But," he said, drawing Jack's gaze away from the phone and onto him, "I'm also going stir-crazy! How would you feel about going _out_ for breakfast?" A glance at the clock on the wall revealed how long his itinerary building had actually taken. "Uh, I mean, lunch."

Some of the light-heartedness left Jack's eyes. "I don't really feel much like goin' out, man."

Mac knew he wouldn't be able to talk Jack into a walking tour, so he added in the next surprise. "Okay, I guess I'll just have to let someone else rent the 2016 Mustang GT that I booked us for the day."

Jack's eyebrows rose and his jaw dropped; creating quite the comical guppy-expression. "Mustang GT? What colour?"

This time, Mac winced a bit. He knew Jack would prefer a black vehicle but he'd only been able to find one, no matter how many rental companies he called. Not surprising, really. It was a popular make and model, especially this time of year. "Impact Blue Metallic," Mac told him.

"That works," Jack said sincerely. "Next to black, that's my favourite colour for those beauties."

"Are you sure?" MacGyver asked, feeling self-conscious for the first time since setting this particular plan into motion.

"Absolutely! Besides, what's under the hood is what's really important."

"Well, it's fully loaded," Mac said, excited again.

Jack looked through the window, eyeing the sunshine with more than a bit of longing. He opened his mouth to ask another question but it was MacGyver's turn to be the mind reader.

"Yes," he said, grinning from ear-to-ear now. "It's a convertible."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" Jack responded. "Let's get going!"

Typically, Jack Dalton was usually all for going out with his best friend for some tasty food and drink. However, this was not a typical day. All he really wanted to do today was stare at the television screen as one of his favourite Bruce Willis movies played out in all its glory, and wallow in his grief.

But he could tell Mac was excited about this, and he knew that the kid was uncertain of his abilities to provide comfort when needed. So, not wanting to break his young friend's heart, Jack had agreed to the city tour via Mustang-GT. Besides, it warmed his heart to know that Mac was willing to step out of his comfort zone to help Jack through his grief. And, who knew, maybe it would work.

* * *

Their first stop was a bit of a trek but it involved Jack being able to put the roof down and feel the breeze against his face, so the 45 minute drive had been worth it. And if the fact that MacGyver had been showing a teensy bit of frustration at the fact that his hair kept whipping into his eyes gave the ex-Delta Commando a bit of a chuckle, the blond would certainly never know about it.

As he stepped out of the Mustang, Jack marvelled at the huge waves in the ocean off to his right. Signs were posted all over the place, cautioning people not to get too close to the water due to the dangers of strong undertows. He shook his head at the sight of several people dismissing the warnings and standing right at the edge of the closest rocks – it was never wise to underestimate the power of mother nature.

He breathed in deep, enjoying the fresh scent of the ocean; then he remembered the death of his friend and felt guilty for enjoying himself. He knew it was illogical, and he knew without a doubt that Milo would smack him upside the head if he were there to witness it.

Another thing that made him feel guilty was the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about how much more upset he would be if he had lost Mac on this most recent mission. Knowing that it was because MacGyver was more like a son to him did nothing to alleviate his guilt.

Most of all, he felt guilty because he had been just 2.8 miles away when Milo was executed. 2.8 miles! He just couldn't wrap his head around that particular nugget of information. He knew something was amiss when that replacement 'pilot' had shown up. What if, by sticking to his guns and not accepting the lie that Milo was sick, he could have saved his friend? That was a 'what if' situation that Jack would have to live with for the rest of his life.

* * *

Even with the annoying distraction of his hair whipping around his face and into his eyes, Mac could tell that Jack had descended down into a dark place filled with misery and undeserved guilt just shortly before pulling into the parking lot of the Sou' Wester restaurant.

As much as he knew that Jack was not to blame for Milo's death, he also knew that Jack's heart could not be swayed by any logical argument he came up with. MacGyver was at a loss on how to stop his friend's downward spiral into depression.

He could only hope that the old adage was true – the way to a man's heart is through his stomach – because Mac needed to get through to his best friend's huge heart and the reviews for the Sou' Wester were extremely high – especially when it came to the lobster dinner, which was apparently their specialty.

MacGyver and Jack made their way across the parking lot in companionable silence, until a loud shout from somewhere off to their right whipped their attention to the crowd on the rocks.

"Help! Somebody help us!" It was a woman shouting but they couldn't see her through the throngs of people pressing in towards her, seemingly to offer assistance. Jack took off in the woman's general direction, followed only half a second later by MacGyver!

Mac was still not 100% after his ordeal with the poison and resulting infection, so Jack reached the lady first. She was frantically pointing out into the ocean and Jack followed her line of sight to a young boy being swallowed up by the ocean. Not wasting a single second, he tugged his shoes off and dove into the treacherous waters.

As MacGyver joined the mother and a growing crowd of onlookers, he made a move to dive in after Jack but was hauled back from the edge by someone in the crowd. He tried to fight them off but they were too strong and he could feel himself being pulled away from the edge; away from Jack!

The blond spun around, fist raised, fully expecting to find one of the terrorists had escaped capture and had returned for another shot at killing him. Instead, he discovered a large, muscular man wearing a hat with the Nova Scotia flag on the front, and a black t-shirt with what looked like a cow coming out of the T.A.R.D.I.S. with the words "Doctor Moo" across the chest.

Most definitely a tourist.

What made Mac lower his fist, however, were the kind features on the rotund face. There was absolutely no malice in the green eyes staring down at him, and the smile seemed genuine.

"If you jump in, too, he'll just have to save both of you," the man told him in a gentle voice that matched the face.

MacGyver wanted to argue the point but he knew that Jack was a stronger swimmer than he was even on Mac's best days. Today was _not_ one of his best days. So, although it pained him to do so, he waited for Jack to resurface.

Time seemed to stand still. Seconds felt like minutes. But when Jack broke through the surface of the water, he had the young boy in his arms. Mac could tell that he was struggling against the undertow, even from that distance. As he got closer to the rocks, Mac shook free from the kind Samaritan and moved down to the edge to provide what assistance he could. Waves continued to crash against the rocks all around him, making his footing precarious at best, but he had to risk it.

As he reached the water's edge, he was surprised to find the friendly tourist at his side, offering his own assistance into the mix. Jack held the boy up so that MacGyver to lift him to safety. After handing him over to the tourist, he turned back to Jack – just in time to see a huge wave engulf him and pull him back under the water.

"Jack!" he screamed. "Jack!" Again, he prepared to dive in after his friend; and again he was thwarted by the tourist, this time by a fist yanking him back by his belt. "What are you doing?" he yelled. "I have to help him!"

"The undertow is too strong, son," the tourist yelled to be heard over the crashing waves. "You can help him better from here. Just give him time to break the surface again, then we will both grab a hold of him and haul him out. Okay?"

Reluctantly, MacGyver nodded. It was the longest nine seconds of his life but Jack's head finally broke the surface again and Mac and his new friend each grabbed an arm and pulled him to the relative safety of the rock they were standing on. At which point, the friendly tourist put his enormous muscles to good use and tossed Jack over his shoulder like he weighed next to nothing. Mac followed the man up to the dry area of rocks several feet away and watched as Jack was gently laid out on his back.

Seeing that he was unconscious, Mac immediately checked Jack's vitals. He had a pulse but he wasn't breathing, so the blond tilted Jack's head back, ensured his airway was clear, and breathed for him. "Come on, Jack! Breathe!" He breathed into him a second time. "Jack!" MacGyver leaned down to try a third time but at the last second, Jack sputtered to life. Mac quickly tilted him onto his side and, while Jack rid himself of the nasty ocean water in his lungs, MacGyver sagged forward with relief.

"Excuse me?" the voice was soft and feminine.

Both Mac and Jack looked up and saw the mother of the young boy gazing down at them, hugging her very wet but very much alive son against her as if she never wanted to let him go again. "Thank you so much," she told them sincerely. "I told him not to go past the warning posts but…" she glanced down at the nine year old who appeared sufficiently chagrined.

Having both been nine-year-olds at one time themselves, MacGyver and Jack didn't need her to continue. They simply nodded knowingly. "It's okay," Mac said for both of them. "We understand."

Then Jack made eye contact with the young boy from his perch on the rock. "You're gonna listen to your mom from now on, though, aren't ya'?" The boy's eyes filled with tears but he nodded in agreement. "Good man," Jack said. He moved his gaze to Mac. "Can we eat now? I'm starvin'?"

Everyone within hearing distance laughed, just as Jack had intended. Mac reached down and took him by the hand, gently hauling his friend to his feet. As they made their way to the car for the Go-Bag Jack thankfully always took with him wherever he went, a small crowd following as if they were an entourage, Mac leaned in closer to whisper to Jack, "Are you okay?"

Making eye contact with his friend, Jack saw plainly the lingering fear mixed with relief in the blue eyes. "I'm good, brother," he reassured him, hauling the Go-Bag out of the trunk. "Probably won't want to go swimming for a while, and I _really_ need to change out of these wet clothes, but I'm good."

* * *

After devouring a bowl of seafood chowder, Mac ordered a steamed lobster with melted butter for dipping, while Jack opted for the Nova Scotia haddock fish and chips. Both men topped off their lunch with a dessert of homemade gingerbread served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Mac insisted on paying the bill, smiling when Jack had quickly agreed to being treated. They both took turns footing the bill when they enjoyed meals together – which was basically, _at least_ once a day – but, when he didn't have to pay, Jack liked to act like a free loader in a futile attempt to disguise his generosity. To be honest, MacGyver couldn't really remember whose turn it was to pay but he figured Jack had earned it over the past few weeks. Actually, after what his friend had done for him since being poisoned, and even before that, Mac had no idea how he was going to aptly show his appreciation.

However, when Mac pulled out his wallet to pay for the food, the waiter told them that their bill had already been paid.

A moment later, the manager of the restaurant joined them. As it turned out, he had been out in the crowd when the boy had fallen into the water. Thoroughly impressed with their bravery, he told both Mac and Jack that their meal was on the house. He did tell them that such actions are typically frowned upon because it usually ended up that the 'hero' just became another victim that needed to be saved. But the Desert Storm vet saw something in Jack that screamed Special Forces so he made an exception this time because, if anyone could fight against the abnormally strong undertow and currents in this area, it was a member of the Special Forces.

Mac watched as Jack nodded curtly and averted his eyes, his friend's version of a flush of embarrassment, as he stood to shake the hand of his brother in arms. MacGyver waited his turn, then did the same, before the two left the restaurant and headed out to the next stop in the full day Mac had planned for them.

* * *

MacGyver artfully skirted the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, the newly renovated Discovery Centre, and the Nova Scotia Museum of Natural History – all of which had looked extremely interesting in the online trip advisor but did not work towards his goal for the day, which was to get Jack's mind off Milo Giglia.

Instead, they played a few games of pool at a place called Lawrence's, enjoying temporary ownership of the table due to the lack of clientele. MacGyver checked his watch, noting the early afternoon hour and decided most of the bar's usual customers were likely still recovering from the night before.

Use of the table was free of charge, so the two men purchased several appetizers which they were certain they would be too full to indulge in, hoping to avoid the ire of management. That said, the combined aroma of the deep fried pepperoni, mozza sticks, and onion rings proved too strong to ignore and the plates were empty within a short amount of time.

His plan seemed to be working as Jack won three out of their five games and whooped with delight. As much as Mac would have liked to make the claim, he didn't _let_ his friend win. Besides, any such attempt would have been met with indignation from Jack – and, more than likely, some sort of playful, yet mortifying retribution.

With only one or two balls left on the table, the games had been close but Jack had won each of his three fair and square. For all of MacGyver's skills with geometry and physics, Jack always seemed able to beat him at his favourite pastime. Usually, this irked Mac's competitive nature. Not this time. Today, the blond genius was just happy to see his best friend smiling and laughing.

* * *

A few hours later, Mac insisted on driving to their next destination, claiming that it was easier than trying to navigate from the passenger seat – the real reason being that he knew Jack would get lost in the scenery and not ask too many questions about where they were going.

After making his way through downtown, MacGyver followed his memory of the city map and took Quinpool Road up to the Armdale traffic circle. "Wow," Jack said, eyes widening with surprise. "This place sure has changed!"

"Yeah? How so?"

Jack thought about it for a moment. "I don't quite know how to explain it," he finally admitted. "It used to be some kind of love child between a rotary and roundabout, taking on its own rules that even some of the locals found confusing."

"But you didn't?" Mac guessed.

"I actually kinda liked it," the ex-Delta Commando shrugged in response. For all of Jack's apparent faults, he was highly adaptable and his instincts were second to none.

His own instincts being nothing to sneeze at, Mac made it through the former rotary-slash-roundabout with relative ease, then headed to the left toward a place called Herring Cove. True to form, Jack didn't ask any questions, seemingly happy to simply gaze out at the skyline of the Halifax Harbour. Although, at second glance, Mac thought he saw traces of melancholy in his friend's eyes.

He didn't have long to consider the change in mood, however, as his next turn was coming up on the right. This was where Jack's observation skills kicked into high gear. "Mac, where're we goin'?"

"It's a surprise," MacGyver revealed cryptically.

"This is a residential area."

"You don't say," Mac deadpanned.

Jack scowled at him in response. "All I mean is, we've been goin' to restaurants and bars so far, which is par for the course when you're a tourist."

"And?" the blond prompted, marvelling at the steep trajectory of the road they were currently traversing.

"Well, not for nothin', Mac, but I know you're trying to get my mind off Milo." The surprised blue eyes whipped around to lock onto him. "You're the one who wanted to drive; keep your eyes on the road, man!"

Mac complied but kept flicking his gaze to his friend, looking almost guilty.

"Don't get me wrong," Jack amended. "I appreciate it. That man's passing has affected me more than I care to admit. But you are just not all that great at the whole 'keepin' secrets' thing."

"I'm a _spy_ , Jack. If I wasn't good with secrets, I'd be out of a job."

"Yeah, but with the job, you're keepin' secrets to save hundreds, sometimes thousands of lives, whether directly or indirectly. But keeping 'em just cuz you wanna surprise someone? Not your forte, my friend. Out with it."

Jack had a point. Some spies excelled with secrets in both their professional _and_ personal lives – Nikki had been a prime example of that – while Mac had an aversion for deception if it wasn't absolutely necessary. As he made another left, he tried to figure out if keeping their latest destination from his friend even served a purpose any longer. Regardless of his good intentions, it would seem that the surprise was now a moot point.

With townhouses lining the road on either side of them, Mac continued to debate his options as he circumnavigated the numerous one way streets in Cowie Hill village. The fact that Jack still had to ask where they were going indicated that Mac's spy skills were being put to good use. However, the fact that Jack knew Mac was trying to make him feel better, and that there was a surprise on the horizon, told MacGyver that his abilities needed a bit of work.

But the question of revelation or subterfuge quickly became moot as Mac pulled into a small parking lot on his right hand side and parked next to a black '67 Chevy Impala. As soon as Jack saw the car, his eyes lit up with excitement. "Are they filming an episode of _Supernatural_ here? I take it back, brother. You're secret keeping skills would give James Bond a run for his money!"

Rolling his eyes, Mac turned off the car and stepped out into the hot afternoon sunshine. "No, Jack," he said, leaning back in through the open window. "They are not filming an episode of _Supernatural_ here." Although, Mac had to admit, that would be pretty cool. The escapades of Sam and Dean Winchester were something that both he and Jack always looked forward to watching every week. They were even slowly converting Riley into the 'SPNFamily'.

Jack opened his door, eyeing the Impala with more than a little envy as he walked around their equally-beautiful-but-not-yet-vintage Mustang GT convertible. Finally tearing his eyes away from the sultry black and chrome curves of the vehicle, Jack made eye contact with Mac. "Then what are we doin' here, brah?"

"Jack!"

No sooner had he heard his name, than Jack had an arm full of excited nine year old. He looked down in surprise at Toby, moved his gaze up to see Jay striding down the paved walkway to join them, then settled back on MacGyver who was smiling knowingly at his big-hearted, kid-loving friend.

"Surprise," the blond said, elated to see the tears of joy shining in Jack's eyes.

TBC

 _A/N 4 Shout out to WynonaRose for her input that Jack would have been eating in sopping wet clothes after saving the boy from the ocean! I totally missed that one! lol I fixed it now, though! Thanks, WynonaRose! MUCH Appreciated! xoxo_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N Well, it's a little bittersweet for me to know that this story is soon coming to an end. The final chapter (15) is written and almost ready to post. I hope this has been as fun of a ride for all of you as it has been for me! :-) Next story is already brewing in my mind, and is even briefly outlined on my PC. Need to finish editing my YA novella first, though. I apologize for any typos or plot holes - some, however, are meant to set up a possible sequel for Mac &Jack to return to Halifax for a visit with Jay and Toby. (That's not the next story I was referring to, though. That's one's gonna be a surprise! *wink*)_

Jack looked down at the pint-size boy in his arms. "Hey, buddy! How ya' doin'?"

Toby smiled up at him, then pulled away so that he could throw his arms around Mac's waist next. Jack smirked at the look of surprise on the young genius's face and didn't miss the fondness in the blue eyes as MacGyver gazed down at the nine-year-old. "Hey, Toby!"

Unlike his little brother, Jay approached the parking lot at a much slower pace. MacGyver shared a look with Jack, knowing that his friend saw the teen the same way Mac did – someone who'd been hurt many times and had learned to keep his walls erected no matter what the situation. Truth be told, Mac saw it so clearly for the simple reason that, not too long ago, he _was_ that kid. He blushed slightly at the realization that Jack could see it for the same reason – after all, he was the one who pulled Mac out of that well-built shell while they were in the desert together.

The past week was an undeniable testament to the fact that Mac's defenses were still there… and that Jack still had the same uncanny ability to knock the walls down and virtually see right into Mac's soul.

When Jay was only half way down the walkway, a woman Mac presumed had to be Brian's wife darted out of the house.

"Jay, honey, wait," she called out.

The teen stopped and turned around. The pretty brunette handed him to jackets with the cryptic comment, "You know, just in case." She then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, earning a set of bright pink cheeks on Jay's face before he resumed his path to the parking lot.

As he finally reached the car, in true Jack form, MacGyver watched his best friend pull Jay into a quick hug. Neither of them missed the flinch from the teen when Jack reached out for him – as if expecting to be hit – which made Jack completing the embrace all that more important. Mac was pretty sure it lasted a few seconds longer than Jack had initially intended it to, as well.

MacGyver marvelled at the fact that anyone could hurt a child, let alone when that child was one of their own. The thought of such an event never failed to make his blood boil. The fact that it had happened to these kids turned the rolling boil into a veritable inferno!

Releasing a still stunned Jay, Jack opened the door of the Mustang so that the boys could climb into the backseat. A glance back at the house revealed Brian standing just outside his backdoor. He signalled them with a jut of the chin that he'd like to speak with them in private. So, Jack leaned down to look in at the boys through the open passenger side window. "We'll be right back, guys," he said with a conciliatory wink, then started to follow Mac down the walkway which led to the house.

He paused when the hair on the back of his neck stood up on end. They were being watched. Not wanting to alarm the kids, or to tip off their observer, Jack pretended to notice something wrong with the front passenger side tire. Mac turned around, clearly sensing the same unwelcome spectator as Jack did, but Jack quickly waved him off, his expression sending out their tried and true silent communication to continue BAU – Business as Usual.

Knowing that his return to the vehicle would only raise suspicion, and possibly increase any potential danger, MacGyver resumed his path to the house with practiced ease. As he reached Brian, Mac reached out and shook his hand. The guy kind of reminded him of Jack, to be honest. The two were around the same age. Both had their hair cropped close, and their broad shoulders and barrel chests told of decades of staying in shape. "I hear you helped Jack when I was… incapacitated. Thank you," he said sincerely.

"No thanks necessary," Brian dismissed. "All I did was hold doors open so that he could carry you up to the room."

The words were said kindly, without any sort of recrimination or malice but Mac still felt the blush burn up his neck to his cheeks.

Of course, it made sense. He'd been unconscious, so he wouldn't have been able to get up the stairs of his own volition. He just hadn't really given it much thought – which he'd be the first to admit was a defense mechanism… if he didn't know about it, then it didn't happen. Now the ostrich hole was taken away, so he was no longer able to keep that detachment about the helplessness he felt after being poisoned.

"I don't know if Jack told you, but my son died back when he was around Jay's age."

That statement pulled MacGyver back to the present and he regarded the other man with sympathy. "No, he didn't. I'm so sorry for your loss." Mac knew a little something about losing loved ones but kept that little nugget of information to himself.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," Brian said. "But that's not why I told you. I feel like you should know, when you were sick and hurting, the same love I felt for my son was plain to see in Jack's eyes when he looked at you. In fact, I thought that you actually _were_ his son at first."

MacGyver felt the emotions from a few days previous soar to the surface once again, making it difficult to breathe. Brian must have sensed the turmoil because he placed a comforting hand on Mac's arm.

"I'm not trying to upset you, kid. I just want you to know that the way Jack feels about you – and I assume the feeling is reciprocated?…" he paused, then was encouraged by Mac's curt nod of agreement. "Well, that's why Gabriella and I have decided to adopt Jay and Toby."

Mac's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

Brian nodded, squeezing MacGyver's arm with the hand Mac had forgotten was even there. "What I saw that night between you and Jack made me rethink the whole idea of adoption. You guys changed my life. And I wanted you to know that a whole lotta good came from all the bad stuff that happened to you that night. Your suffering wasn't in vain, my friend," he tacked on with a tender smile.

* * *

Unable to see the threat, Jack figured days of being on edge since their arrival in Halifax had sharpened to the point of slight paranoia for both him and Mac. He stood up, stretched – mostly because, if anyone was watching, he wanted them to know their threat didn't concern him – then made his way toward Brian and Mac. Whatever they'd been talking about while Jack was perusing fake damage to a perfectly good tire, MacGyver's cheeks burned almost as bright as Jay's had just a few moments earlier.

"Hey, Brian," Jack said, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "I almost didn't recognize you in your civies, man!"

"Gabriella won't let me wear my uniform in my off-duty hours. She says she doesn't want me having delusions of grandeur at home… I think she's just afraid she won't be able to keep her hands off me," he whispered with a conspiratorial wink.

"You just keep tellin' yourself that," Gabriella called out from inside the house. A peek through the window revealed a mischievous smirk on the pretty face as she watched a movie from her perch on the sofa. Jack and MacGyver shared a grin of their own – the couple's similar sense of humour told them that Gabriella and Brian were clearly made for each other.

"Listen, guys," Brian started, his voice taking on a more ominous tone. "I don't want to put a damper on your day with the boys but…" he trailed off, unsure how to put his concern into words.

"What is it?" Mac asked in all seriousness, his training having given him a pretty reliable instinct for when trouble was looming. "Did the judge refuse to give you temporary custody?"

"No, no. Judge Callahan is a huge advocate for helping kids in abusive situations. She signed the papers after just a 30 minute conversation with each Jay and Toby."

"Smart lady," Jack said with relief.

Still, Brian hesitated with his revelation. But not for dramatic effect. It seemed more like he was trying to decide whether or not he should put voice to his thoughts. Like MacGyver, Jack's posture also tensed in preparation for bad news. "Brian?"

"Look, I don't know for sure who it is, but someone's been lurking around the property the past few days." Instinctually, MacGyver and Jack nonchalantly turned to look at their surroundings. "Whoever it is," Brian continued, "he didn't start coming around until after Jay and Toby got here." He turned to Mac, gentling his voice as he remembered the vulnerable state the young man had been in when they'd first met. "The group who abducted you were all rounded up and taken off our hands by your boss – a little detail, I have to admit, I'm still curious about."

The faces of his abductors flashed through Mac's mind but he determinedly pushed the thoughts away. He was safe now, thanks to Jack.

"You're safer not knowing, man," Jack assured him. "Trust me on that."

"Anyway, logically, it leaves only one possible culprit in my mind." His gaze found the car, watching the boys who were still waiting in the backseat.

Jack and MacGyver followed his line of sight. Mac spoke up first. "You think it might be their father?"

Brian locked eyes with him and nodded. "It's the only thing that makes sense, isn't it?"

"Did you put a restraining order on the guy?"

"Need to find him before I can do anything like that. I gotta tell ya, though, the way Jay reacts when anyone makes any sudden movements around him, makes me kinda wanna do more than put a restraining order on him."

"Yeah," Mac said, clenching his fists. "Ever since I met those kids, I've been thinking about an impromptu meeting with the guy myself." Jack casually took a step closer to him, causing their shoulders to touch, and Mac felt his anger dissipate somewhat. Not completely but enough so that he was able to unclench his fists without too much effort.

"I know someone who might be able to help you find him," Jack told Brian. "I'll have her give you a call."

"That would be great, Jack. Thanks. Keep a close eye on the kids _and_ on your own sixes, okay? Gabriella's grown quite fond of those boys," he added, gaze again falling on Jay and Toby through the windshield of the Mustang.

"Just Gabriella, huh," Jack needled.

This time, it was Brian's turn to blush. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, we'd hate to see anything happen to them."

"We'll keep them safe," Mac promised, meaning it with every ounce of his being.

Seeing the sincerity in the blue eyes, Brian accepted Mac's word for what it was.

"Do the boys know? You know, about the guy who's been lurking around?" Jack queried.

"I think Jay suspects something. He's been a bit jumpier than usual the last day or so. But he's been careful to keep it from Toby."

"He's trying to protect him," Mac conceded.

"Question is, who's gonna protect Jay?" Jack added, a note of concern in his voice.

"We are," Brian affirmed, earning a nod of agreement from MacGyver and Jack.

Without another word, the off-duty officer shook both their hands and then went back inside. A second later, he turned back again. "Hey, MacGyver, they don't know about the other stuff either. We want to surprise them with the news later this week. Gabby's got a special dinner planned, gifts, the whole nine yards."

"My lips are sealed," Mac assured him.

Brian continued inside, leaving Jack to regard MacGyver with confusion. "News?"

"Don't worry, it's the good kind – Brian and Gabriella are planning to adopt the kids," the blond revealed with a small grin.

"That is good news," Jack agreed. "That's very good news." Before turning to leave, he leaned in to Mac. "Now, you wanna tell me what the rest of that was all about?"

"The rest of what?"

"You nearly going all Bruce Banner a few minutes ago. I'm the Hulk in this relationship," Jack told him, jerking a thumb towards his own chest. "Remember?"

Mac chuckled softly at Jack's reference to the ornery Marvel comic book character. Maybe the Hulk should be Jack's superhero alter-ego instead of –

"Or do you still see me as Captain America?" Jack teased.

"Aw, man, I'm never gonna hear the end of that, am I?"

"Absolutely not," Jack concurred.

"Great," Mac groaned under his breath.

As he and Jack turned to leave, they caught a glimpse of Brian sitting on the sofa with Gabriella pulled into his side, as they continued watching a movie on the television. They hadn't gone two steps before hearing the iconic line from one of Jack's favourite movies through the open living room window.

" _Nine million terrorists in the world, and I gotta kill the one with feet smaller than my sister."_

MacGyver couldn't believe that, of all the movies in the world, Brian and Gabriella had to be watching that one. He shook his head and glanced at Jack through the corner of his eye. Not surprisingly, the tiny grin on his friend's face did wonders in lessening the weight of the dark cloud Mac felt hovering overhead.

Still, that slight reprieve didn't stop either of them from discreetly checking their surroundings again for possible danger. "So? What do you think?"

"I think, we're gonna give these kids the awesome day they deserve – "

"While still keeping them safe and watching our six," Mac finished for him. "I agree completely."

"Glad I'm already packin'," Jack added. When MacGyver cocked his head to the side, Jack continued, "Ankle holster."

"You brought a gun with you for a tour of the city?"

"Yeah, and it's a good thing I did, isn't it?"

This time, a raised eye brow was what urged Jack to shrug and say, "Force of habit, man. I slip on the holster every morning, right after I do my hair."

"Oh, so that," MacGyver indicated Jack's hair-do, "is on purpose?"

Mac ducked just in time to avoid the smack upside the head and darted the rest of the way to the car.

* * *

Jack was behind the wheel this time, and he and Mac kept the conversation light for the return drive to downtown Halifax – with Jack handling the traffic circle like a pro! The two men took turns checking the mirrors to confirm it they were being followed and were both fairly certain that they weren't. However, the beautiful sunny day seemed to be pulling out half the city's population, filling the streets with not only pedestrians but also people who preferred to enjoy the sunshine with the added benefit of an air conditioned vehicle. The streets were packed.

"Hey, Jay?" Mac asked, half turning in his seat.

"Yeah?"

"Why did Gabriella give you a jacket on a hot day like this?"

Jay smirked. "There's a saying here on the east coast. If you don't like the weather, don't worry because it's gonna change in a few minutes."

Jack glanced at the teen in the rearview mirror, perplexed. He looked over at Mac, relieved to see that he wasn't the only one to not understand something this time.

"But, if you do like the weather," Toby piped up, "don't get your hopes up… because it's gonna change – "

"In a few minutes," Jack and MacGyver finished, each grinning. "We get it," Jack said. "We get it."

In the backseat, Jay and Toby laughed quietly at the east coast idiom. It was a good sound.

Their first stop was the forts on Citadel Hill, reported as the highest point in the city. Jack, Jay and Toby loved seeing where many soldiers had slept and ate but had thankfully never seen battle – at least not here.

Even Mac discovered something interesting when he learned that the immense size of the hill was what had protected the southern and western areas of the city from the Halifax Explosion, which was the result of a French munitions ship accidentally colliding with a Norwegian vessel on its way to pick up relief supplies for war-torn Belgium on December 6, 1917.

MacGyver continued to read the large placard, his mind craving more information. Behind him, he heard more giggles coming from Toby, no doubt due to something Jack had said or done. If he were to be completely honest, Mac was a bit jealous that the youngest of the boys had bonded with the older man so fast but Mac couldn't really blame him – Jack had wormed his way into his own heart mere weeks after meeting; an accomplishment never before achieved sooner than a couple years of comprehensive calculations and meticulous vetting. Jack just had this special way of inserting himself into a person's life and making that person not want to let him go. Mac might have thought the man to be a wizard waving an invisible magic wand, if he believed in such things.

Even while he kept reading the historical account, he couldn't help but smirk at the memory of when he and Jack had first started working together in the desert. They had quickly gone from being quite possibly the oddest pairing in the United States Army to a team made up of two best friends who trusted each other implicitly and would die for one another without a second's hesitation.

As he moved to the next paragraph on the placard, Mac learned that the blast from the centre of the harbour had levelled 2.5 square kilometers of downtown Halifax. Then, as if the explosion and fires weren't enough devastation, the blast also created a tsunami which swept over the city. In total, nearly 1500 people were killed, another 9000 badly injured, and more than 25,000 were left homeless.

Windows in the community of Truro 100 kilometers away – which Mac calculated to be equal to a little over 62 miles – were shattered and the blast was heard in Prince Edward Island with a distance more than three times that.

Mac was so riveted by the information, a low whistle from behind made him jump. He turned slightly to see Jack standing at his back with Toby sitting atop his shoulders. "That was one massive explosion," the Delta Commando said, effectively reading Mac's mind. Then his partner's gaze took on an air of warning. "I was thinking maybe you should take the kids back to the car, while I hang around here for a bit longer," he muttered cryptically, his eyes darting to Mac's left and back again.

This time, it was Mac's turn to do the 'mind-reading'. He followed Jack's signal and looked to his left just in time to see a figure cloaked in darkness duck behind a nearby wall. While he was still processing the fact that the boys' father had likely found them, MacGyver suddenly found himself with an armful of nine-year-old. He shifted the boy to his hip, glanced quickly to the right to ensure Jay was also safe, then returned his attention to Jack who was now several feet away from them, headed in the direction of the wall their shadow had disappeared behind. "Jack!" MacGyver stage whispered, not wanting to alert their pray but also not wanting his best friend to step into an unknown situation without some kind of backup.

Jack merely turned to give a thumbs up sign, then disappeared behind the corner.

"Where's Jack going?" Toby inquired.

"He's, uh, he's gone to get us all something to drink," Mac lied as he led the boys out of the Citadel forts and back down the long path to the car. A look from Jay told MacGyver loud and clear that he still sucked at subterfuge but at least Toby seemed to buy it, and the teen was following without argument.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Jack met them at the Mustang empty-handed. "Where's our drinks," Toby asked, pouting a bit. In the kid's defense, they had been traipsing around in the heat for quite a while.

At Jack's questioning look, MacGyver shrugged. "He asked where you were going," he explained simply, locking eyes with his friend and cocking his head to the side in silent warning.

"Ahh, okay," Jack said, winking at Mac to indicate he received the semi-telepathic message loud and clear. "Well, Toby, I figured we should get a snack to go with our drinks and MacGyver here hasn't been able to stop talking about some concoction called a Beavertail."

Mac frowned slightly. He couldn't remember any such conversation but quickly realized that he must have mentioned talked about them in his fevered delirium. Either way, he didn't have time to think about it for too long because Toby started vibrating with excitement at the mere thought of eating a Beavertail.

"I guess we're a go for Beavertails, then," MacGyver laughed.

"I guess so," Jack agreed. "What do you say, Jay? Are you up for it?"

The teen continued to eye both Jack and MacGyver with suspicion but nodded his agreement. Though his decision was likely more due to being unable to say no to his little brother, than to any progress of trust in the two secret agents.

Their next stop was the waterfront. Having grown up in Halifax, the boys were all too familiar with Beavertails. But with their most recent living situation, they hadn't been able to indulge in one of the sweet, doughy concoctions since before their mom died.

Jay balked at Toby revealing this bit of intel, as he did with every other piece of personal information the boy shared, but he kept his mouth shut for Toby's sake and forced an air of indifference to emanate off him. The teen had no idea how transparent his act had become, as the more MacGyver and Jack got to know him, the more easily they were able to see the pain behind the façade.

As MacGyver and Toby walked a few feet ahead, with Mac listening intently to all the statistics the boy wanted to share about the ships and landmarks they passed, Jay leaned a bit closer to Jack. This surprised the older man at first, until he heard the harsh whisper in his ear – "What is going on?"

Jack shrugged, not wanting to worry the kid any more than he clearly already was. "I think your brother has taken on the role of tour guide. And a pretty darn good one, at that."

"You know that's not what I'm talking about," Jay admonished. "You think, I don't notice you and Mac looking over your shoulders all the time? Or the multiple glances in the mirrors ever since we left the house? And what about your impromptu get away back at the forts?" When Jack didn't respond right away, Jay moved to step in front of him, effectively blocking his path. "What's going on?" he demanded again, pushing his sunglasses up on his head so that Jack would see that he wouldn't be able to get out of this with a well-played joke or one-liner. "I'm not a little kid, Mr. Dalton. And I have a right to know."

Jack gazed at the teen. He couldn't be more than 14 years old, yet his eyes held the experiences of someone much older. Jack wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if Mac's gaze would have looked the same at that age. "Okay, listen," Jack started calmly. "First of all, it's Jack, okay? Mr. Dalton is a title held by my daddy and I could never do it justice the way he did." Something changed in the kid's eyes and Jack regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Not because he didn't believe them – because he did with all his heart – but because it seemed like he was rubbing in the fact that he'd had a great father who ruled with love and respect; while Jay and Toby's father ruled with fear, neglect, and very likely violence. "Brian told us that someone's been lurking around the house the past couple days."

"My father," Jay whispered almost to himself, his voice carrying no doubt whatsoever.

"We don't know that for sure," Jack told him. "It could all just be a coincidence."

"I knew this was all too good to be true," the teen said, as if not hearing a word Jack had just said. "Toby and I need to bail," he added quickly, spinning around to retrieve his brother with full intention to run far, far away and never look back.

"Now, hold on a minute," Jack countered, taking a hold of the teen's arm and holding him in place, ignoring the surprised glare he got in return. "You don't have to run, kid. MacGyver and I got your back, and so do Brian and Gabriella." Jay was unconvinced. "Look at your brother," Jack tried. "He finally has a light to his eyes and a bounce to his step; you really want to let your dad take that away again?" The teen turned and studied his little brother. "Don't let your jerk of an old man have that kind of control over you, bud. Not again." Now, Jay returned his intense gaze to Jack. "I know it's difficult this late in the game, but you're gonna need to trust someone eventually. I may not have earned that trust yet, but I'm sure Mac has – and, let me tell you, he deserves it. He will _not_ let you down, kiddo. He's just not wired that way."

"Jay, look!"

The teen glanced back to see Toby pointing up at MacGyver who seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he had chocolate syrup transfer from his Beavertail all over his mouth and nose. A wink out of the nine-year-old's line of sight told them Mac was pretending to not notice for comedic effect. And it was working. Not only was Toby in hysterics, Jack and Jay's lips were quirking upwards, as well.

"Doesn't that look like a face you can trust?" Jack asked at his shoulder, knowing full well what the answer would be; simply because the answer to that particular question was always the same – a resounding yes!

Jay nodded hesitantly. Even only seeing the side-profile, Jack was almost certain he saw the kid's eyes fill. His suspicion was pretty much confirmed as Jay slid his sunglasses back on his face and cleared his throat. "Uh, where to next?"

* * *

It had been so long since he'd been able to truly trust somebody. The first brick in Jay's wall of solitude was laid shortly after his mom's car wreck, when his father had shoved him into a wall.

It wasn't like the man had never hit him before, quite the contrary. But the previous occasions had all been because Jay had done something wrong – like the time he'd forgotten to study for the History exam which had been worth 50% of his grade; or when his fumble of the ball had led to his team losing the biggest game of the year. It was true, his mom had been upset about the beatings but Jay had deserved each and every one of them. Besides, if it took his dad's attention off his mom and Toby, then Jay took it as a win.

After his mom died, though, the slaps and punches slowly became more frequent and less deserved. More often than not, his dad would usually just be coming off a bender at the local pub and decide that everything that had gone wrong in his life was the fault of his boys. The incident with the hot clothes iron would forever be etched into Jay's memory – it also marked the day that Jay had packed up as much as he could carry of his and Toby's things and bolted.

Having never been a runaway before, Jay had made a few near fatal mistakes in the beginning of his and Toby's new life on the streets. The meager amount of cash Jay had pocketed from his dad's stash before they left had only lasted a couple weeks, which resulted in him needing to find other ways to provide for his little brother. On one such occasion, a diner owner who'd caught him rummaging through the trash behind his restaurant promised to 'help'. Unfortunately, this had meant a call to Child Protective Services, not a free cheeseburger and fries for him and his brother.

Jay and Toby had been taken into custody by a well-meaning social worker who Jay believed truly cared. Sadly, when it came to child abuse, 'well-meaning' could often translate to 'naïve' because what was in the best interest of the child was typically considered to be keeping the family together. Well, Jay knew better than anyone what was best for Toby – and their father wasn't it. So, when the social worker had contacted their dad, suggesting that he pick them up from the youth facility, Jay had ensured that he and his little brother were out the window and across the snow covered lawn before their father had even entered the room.

That had been a close call, to say the least, but it had also been a hard lesson learned – that adults could not be trusted to think outside the box and realize that some people were just not cut out to be parents.

He and Toby had survived on their own for the past six months, strictly adhering to the rule of no adults unless the situation urgently called for it – like the first time they'd had to enlist Brian's help when Toby had tip-toed out of their apartment to get medicine for a feverish Jay and happened upon an armed robbery. He'd told Jay about the incident a couple days later but said he was afraid to go to the police station to give his statement. Jay had quickly pulled out the piece of paper with Brian's contact information on it and gave the officer a call, stating that Toby would give his statement to Brian and only Brian. Other than that, their 'no adult's rule had worked just fine for them.

Then they met MacGyver – and now Jack – and their simple lives were thrown into a turmoil. But a small part of Jay clung to the hope that these new friendships were a symbol of good things to come. Meanwhile, a much larger part had abandoned the idea of 'hope' a long time ago.

* * *

Earlier that morning, trying to find local attractions that Jack would enjoy but which would also entertain Jay and Toby had turned out to be surprisingly easy. Then again, maybe it wasn't so surprising, after all.

 _Despite Jack Dalton's years of experience as a Delta Commando; a CIA and DXS agent; and now his time with the Phoenix Foundation, he was still just a kid at heart._

Mac couldn't help but grin as he watched Jack toss a giggling Toby up over his shoulder and run up and down the pier, pretending that he was Captain Hook and was going to throw Toby's Peter Pan overboard.

Then, the blond's gaze moved to Jay who was also watching Captain Hook/Peter Pan scenario play out. As MacGyver studied the teen unobserved, he noticed a distinct softness to the boy's expression and posture, as if the only time he allowed himself to be unguarded was when enjoying his little brother's laughter.

 _Or, perhaps Jack's childlike quality wasn't_ _ **in spite**_ _of those life choices, but rather_ _ **because**_ _of them. Maybe that devil-may-care-attitude was what kept Jack from becoming jaded; maybe it was what kept Jack alive. Either way, I couldn't deny finding that particular trait somewhat… endearing. Of course, I will never in a million years tell Jack that. And, if you tell him I said it, I will deny it until I'm blue in the face. No need to inflate the man's ego any further than it already has been._

MacGyver moved to stand next to Jay, feeling the teen's posture tense almost immediately. The kid's demeanour had softened around him quite a bit since their first encounter a few days earlier but there was still a ways to go. That was okay, though. Mac knew what it was like to not be able to trust anyone. And a quick glance at Jack reminded him of what it felt like to know you could trust someone not only with your life but with your heart, as well. Mac wanted more than anything for Jay to feel that kind of trust – to know without a doubt that he could be vulnerable without fear of repercussion.

But something about hearing a nine-year-old giggling in close proximity made this not a good time for that kind of heavy conversation. And, to be honest, Mac was glad for it. Jack was the father-figure in this equation, MacGyver would leave the deep, emotional topics for him to deal with. He was more than happy to take on the role of big brother and leave it at that for the time being.

"Jack's favourite actor is Bruce Willis," he said, seemingly out of the blue, earning a quizzical look from the teen beside him. "But my favourite is Tom Hanks."

"O-kay," Jay replied, drawing out the word in a way that said he thought the blond genius had gone slightly nuts.

"Ever see the movie 'Big'?"

A touch of sadness flashed across the kid's face before he was able to hide it completely. "Yeah, it was one of my mom's favourite movies. Why?"

Mac wanted to place a supportive hand on Jay's shoulder but he hadn't mastered physical forms of comfort the way Jack had. So, instead, he nudged him with his elbow and indicated Jack with a jut of his chin. He didn't even have to say a word, Jay got his meaning right away and they both started chuckling.

Jack noticed this and raised an eyebrow at Mac, even as he made another fake-toss of Toby over the edge of the pier, smiling at the squeal of delight from the boy. But, as always seemed to be the case with Jack, he picked up on the tone of the conversation and somehow sensed that MacGyver was trying to lighten Jay's mood a bit. So, he pretended to be oblivious to the fact that he was being mocked in some way and continued to play with the nine-year-old still folded over his shoulder.

Taking advantage of the small amused grin on Jay's face, MacGyver urged Jack and Toby to join them and used his smart phone to capture a group selfie.

A few moments later, Jack had to put Toby down and take a break when a steady, throbbing ache began to emanate from the almost completely healed gunshot wound in his leg – well, almost healed based on Delta Commando standards, anyway.

He saw MacGyver tense somewhat when he was unable to completely hide the resulting limp but dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. Thankfully, Mac stood down and didn't fuss over him because the last thing he wanted was for his injury to weigh down on the two boys who needed a fun, carefree day more than anyone Jack had met in a very long time.

Not since his first encounter with MacGyver back in the sandbox all those years ago. In fact, the more he got to know Jay, the more the teen reminded him quite a bit of a younger Mac. And he was confident, Toby was exactly like Mac had been before his mom had died and stopped being the emotional buffer between boy and father.

* * *

MacGyver would be the first to admit that their route from one destination to the next was circuitous at best but the plan was to spend time with the boys and help Jack heal, not to just go from one stop to the next in the most time efficient manner. The lack of efficiency honestly gave Mac a bit of a twitch but he ignored it and continued on with his original plan of today being about Jack and the boys.

Besides, their final stop before the movie was a surprise. And, after his and Jack's big lunch in Peggy's Cove, they needed to get a lot of walking in if they were going to build up an appetite. Well, Mac would, at least. He sometimes got the feeling that Jack was a bottomless pit when it came to tasty food.

Truth be told, Jack actually enjoyed walking – even if he did tend to whine about it a bit. But that was just to get a reaction out of Mac or, more often, to distract him from an injury and/or get him out of that ginormous brain of his. That brain had saved their hides on many, many occasions… but sometimes the kid thought too much for his own good. Thankfully, Jack didn't feel a need to accomplish any of those things today, so there was no whining. Only fun and laughter.

After seeing the Titanic display at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, Mac led everyone to the next stop – Nova Scotia Sport Hall of Fame.

Moments after their arrival, Jay seemed especially enamoured with the Sidney Crosby exhibit. Standing nearby with Toby as the boy got a closer look at the famous dryer, MacGyver watched Jack approach Jay, clearly trying to make a connection of some sort. "You like hockey?" he asked conversationally.

"Nah, I'm more of a baseball fan, myself," the teen revealed. "But Crosby managed to follow his dream and get out of here. Gotta give credit where credit is due, right?"

"Nova Scotia seems like a beautiful province, kid. You really hate it that much?"

"No, I love it. But sometimes you need to get away from the place in order to truly escape the people," Jay explained.

Jack shared a look with MacGyver, seeing the same surprise in the younger man's eyes as he felt in his own. Both were pretty sure that was the most open Jay had been since they'd first met him. Still, a lingering sadness overshadowed the surprise because they knew the 'people' the teen was referring to was just one person… his father.

"Well, I'm sure Brian and Gabriella would love to see you play sometime. So would Mac and I, if we're in town when there's a game."

Jay shrugged noncommittally. "I stopped playing," he said simply, then moved onto the next exhibit.

* * *

As they left the NS Sport Hall of Fame, MacGyver realized that he and his partner had even more in common than he'd realized. He had planned this little excursion for Jack and the boys but had found that he'd thoroughly enjoyed himself as well! He was disappointed that the day was soon coming to an end.

"Okay," Mac said. "Next place on our list is…" he paused to check his itinerary, then glanced at his watch. It seemed that end was coming sooner than he'd expected.

"What is it?" Jack asked, pausing in his minor wrestling match with Toby to regard his friend.

"That's it."

"Whaddya mean, that's it?"

"The plan was to tour of the HMCS Sackville. She was built in Canada and the UK during WWII; Canada's oldest fighting warship. I know it's Navy but it still looked pretty cool and I thought the kids would really enjoy it." Mac had what was very close to a pout on his face. "But it's quarter after five. The tour closed fifteen minutes ago."

"There's gotta be plenty more places to see."

"Well, yeah, but this was supposed to be for you guys," MacGyver admitted, studying the tour guide pamphlet. "Hmmm, maybe could try out go-karting or laser tag at KartBahn? But we'd have to leave downtown, then come all the way back for – "

Jack snatched the itinerary and matching tour guide pamphlet out of Mac's hands. After a quick perusal, and a bit of grumbling about stubborn and self-sacrificing geniuses, he led the way to their next destination. MacGyver gazed at the sign in front of the otherwise non-descript building – Nova Scotia Museum of Natural History. He'd wanted to check this place out on his own but… "Jack," he started.

"I know what you're gonna say but this is your vacation too, Mac." He stepped closer for a moment, speaking in tones low enough that he hoped the boys wouldn't be able to hear. "I appreciate you tryin' to make me feel better, kiddo. Really, I do. But, to be honest, just puttin' things in motion so that I can spend time with you and the kids has achieved your goal. Okay? The only thing missin' from the day is seeing you have as much fun as we're havin'."

"I _have_ been having fun," Mac insisted.

"Nah, kid. There's a big difference between enjoying yourself and having fun. Besides, who says we won't enjoy this place? History was my favourite subject in school."

"Really? I never knew that."

"Well, now ya' do," Jack said simply, signalling Jay and Toby to precede them into the museum.

Half an hour later, he smiled as he watched Mac teaching Toby about the earth from geological and archaeological stand points. Meanwhile, he and Jay both found themselves drawn to a new exhibit called 'Sable Island – Over the Dunes, Beyond Wild Horses'. The images of the wild stallions had Jack missing Texas a bit more than usual; and Jay just seemed plain awe struck by the natural beauty of the creatures. Jack took the moment as a chance to pull the kid a bit further out of his shell and started telling him anything and everything he knew about horses.

Not too far away, MacGyver was also enjoying a time of bonding as he discovered Toby's love for science. While they discussed some archaeological finds mounted in glass cases for guests to admire, Toby asked out of the blue, "Do you believe in God, MacGyver?"

Mac stammered over an answer. To be honest, in all his 28 years, he still had not been able to come to any kind of conclusion on that front. His blue eyes darted between the exhibits, looking for Jack – this was more his wheelhouse than MacGyver's. Unable to find his friend, Mac used a classic deflection technique and answered Toby's question with a question. "Do you?" he asked, his reply sounding lame even to his own ears.

Toby didn't seem to mind, though. "My mom did," he replied.

"So did mine," Mac revealed softly.

"But, if God is real, how come he let my mom die?"

MacGyver's heart broke as he saw the tears forming in the little boy's eyes. He remembered thinking the same thing when his mom passed but had yet to come up with an answer.

"Toby," Jack said suddenly, sitting down next to MacGyver and allowing their shoulders to touch in a show of solidarity. Mac had no idea where the man had materialized from but he was glad for it. "Do you know what free will is?"

Toby nodded, one tear streaming down his face. Jay sat down next to his brother, placing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him close. He'd probably deny it later but the teen was listening to Jack as intently Toby.

"Well, sometimes that free will means that bad people do things that hurt good people. No matter how much it breaks God's heart, He can't just snap his fingers and stop all bad stuff from happening because that would mean taking away our free will. And that's one of the things that makes us human." Jack reached out and took one of Toby's small hands in both of his own. "Understand?"

Again, Toby nodded. "I guess so."

Jack glanced up at Jay who was fighting back his own tears. But these weren't just tears of sadness. A fiery anger could be seen lingering beneath the sadness.

Jay felt his emotions overwhelming him. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. He had to get out of there. He shoved his seat back, not caring when he heard it crash to the floor, and bolted for the door at the back of the museum.

"Jay?" Toby asked, watching his brother storm away. He started to chase after him but Jack held him back.

"It's okay, buddy. I'll get 'im," he promised, easing the boy over to MacGyver before racing after Jay.

MacGyver could feel Toby's small frame shaking in his arms and adjusted him so that he was sitting on his lap. "Jay'll be okay, Toby. I promise."

"How do you know?"

Mac smiled softly. "Because I know Jack."

Jay shoved the door open, barely noticing when it slammed into the brick wall of the alleyway. His breaths were coming out in short gasps; his vision was graying at the edges. _Suck it up, Jay._ His father's taunting voice in his head only served to make matters worse. A hand touched his shoulder from behind and he jolted away, spinning away to face his adversary with a raised fist. Seeing Jack, he wasn't sure if he wanted to lower his fist or not. How dare he talk about his mother's death like that! He wasn't there! He had no idea what he was talking about!

For his part, Jack kept a few feet of distance between them, raising his hands in supplication to show he wasn't a threat. "Easy, kiddo. I'm just here to help."

Seeing the sincerity in the man's eyes, Jay finally lowered his fist but found he couldn't loosen it. His fingers seemed stuck in that position. He gasped for air, the effort to breathe growing even more difficult.

Jack approached him slowly and Jay felt like a caged animal. There was no escape. One of Jack's raised hands reached out and gripped the back of the teen's neck. Jay half-heartedly jerked away but not completely and Jack's hold remained true. Still, the kid's eyes darted past Jack, seeing the passersby strolling down the sidewalk several feet away. No one had noticed what was happening in the alleyway yet but who knew how long that would last.

Taking another step forward, Jack filled Jay's field of vision. "Just look at me, kid. Look at me. It's all good." He chuckled at the incredulity in the teen's eyes. "Okay, maybe not good yet, but it will be. Just take in a slow, deep breath."

Involuntary tears streamed down Jay's face, urging Jack to move his hand from the back of the kid's neck to cup one side of his jaw, bringing his other hand up to cup the other side. He used the pads of his thumbs to wipe the tears away, his heart breaking at the hiccupped gasp the simple act of affection drew from the teen.

"You can do it, kiddo. Come on. Breathe with me. In…" they each pulled in a deep breath. "Good boy. And out… Again. Good, good. See? I told ya', you could do it."

Jay nodded, embarrassed but relieved to be able to breathe again.

"Jay."

The unexpected voice had the teen snapping to attention, even as Jack spun around.

Standing before them was a man Jack could only assume was Jay and Toby's infamous father, holding a gun on them, demanding to be the centre attention.

"D-Dad?" Jay frantically wiped the tears off on his sleeve. _Never let him see you cry!_

Assumption confirmed.

TBC

 _A/N 2 Remember, the next (and final) chapter of this here story is written and will be up tomorrow after some additional proofreading. Reviews = chocolate covered caramel! :-D_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N As promised, here is the 15th and final chapter of Nightmares Revisited. Thank you all my reviewers, followers, and favourite-ers who stuck with me during this long process, I hope this chapter is worth the wait! Please let me know is I missed anything (plot holes, loose ends, etc) and I will fix it asap. :-) ~Kelcor_

"Come over here, son," the man ordered.

Jay started to move on instinct alone but Jack reached out with one arm, pushing the teen to stand behind his protective stance, blocking all access. "He's not goin' anywhere with you."

"My gun says otherwise, friend."

Jack's responding grin was feral. He considered extracting his own gun from the holster at his ankle, knowing he'd be able to outsmart and outmaneuver this guy very easily, but opted to use just his wits and his hands – after all, he'd been itchin' for a while now to show this abusive father and all-around Grade-A jerk a little bit of Dalton-style justice. "Oh, rest assured, I am not your friend," he was happy to inform him. "Because what I'm about to do to you, I would never do to a friend."

Jay's dad glanced at the weapon in his hand, stupidly shocked that its presence wasn't demanding instant compliance from Jack.

"That's not the first gun I've had aimed at me, man," Jack explained, casually stepping closer to the man. "It's not even the first gun I've had aimed at me in the past week."

"Stay where you are!"

"Or what? You'll shoot me? Come on, you an' me both know, you're a yellow-bellied coward," Jack taunted. "My guess is, and be sure to tell me if I got this right – you go to the bars to get drunk, right, then you get other bullies who're larger than you tryin' to pick a fight, but you're too scared to rise up to the occasion. So, instead, you go home and take your anger out on your kids!"

"You don't know anything about me!" The gun hand was trembling now.

"Maybe not, but I do know your type. I've met lots of guys like you. Guys who think women and children are targets instead of treasures."

"Shut up!" Jay's dad made a huge mistake and took a step towards Jack, pressing the barrel of the gun against his chest…

Which is _exactly_ what Jack wanted him to do! He grabbed the guy's arm, twisting it behind his back as he shoved him front first into the nearest brick wall. The gun fell to the ground, clattering to the pavement.

"Go ahead and arrest me! I know people. I'll be out before happy hour!"

Jack laughed. "You think I'm a cop?" He shoved him harder into the wall, pleased to see the new look of fear in the jerk's eyes. "Which, I'm sure you understand, means that I'm not bound by the same rules the fine cops in this city need to adhere to." He glanced back at Jay, the terror clear on the kid's face. Jack wanted so badly to teach this guy a lesson but didn't want to traumatize an already traumatized teen in the process. "But, in the interest of time, because you are not worth mine, I'm gonna make you a deal." He shoved harder, this time leaning in to speak quietly in the guy's ear so that Jay couldn't hear his next words. "You forget you even have children, and I won't break every bone in your slimy, worthless little body."

His offer was met with silence. "Do we have a deal?" he asked, voice lethal.

"Yeah, yeah, we got a deal."

Jack released him, taking a moment to calm down before turning around to see the sleaze ball race down the alleyway. He searched the ground for the gun but the guy must've grabbed it before he left.

Mentally kicking himself for not foreseeing that outcome, Jack turned his attention to Jay. "You okay, kid?"

A muted nod was his only response. He was about to push further because the look in the kid's eyes was almost more than Jack could handle, when Mac and Toby came out to join them. Toby ran the few feet to wrap his arms around Jay's waist. But MacGyver instantly sensed the tension in the air. "What happened?" he asked, turning blazing blue eyes on Jack.

"Dear ol' dad showed up for an impromptu family reunion."

"And?"

"And, what do you think? I taught him a lesson or two about what family really means."

"I wish you hadn't done that," MacGyver muttered between grit teeth, the anger clear in his gaze.

"I know," Jack said on a sigh, scrubbing a hand across his scalp in frustration. "I shouldn't have lost my cool – "

"No, that's not it." MacGyver spun back to face Jack. "I just wish I'd been around to dole out some lessons of my own."

"I'm the Hulk in this relationship," Jack snickered. "We discussed this already, Mac."

* * *

Not allowing the altercation with Jay and Toby's dad ruin the day, MacGyver revealed his final surprise to Jack and the boys. He only hoped the kids liked it as much as he knew Jack would.

"Mexican, Mac? Seriously?" Jack asked, smile stretching from ear to ear as he gazed up at the Mexi-Cali Rosa's sign hanging from the top of the small awning.

"Great reviews for the place, too. Our friendly neighbourhood concierge says that a good friend of his loves the beef nachos and deep fried ice cream here."

"Deep fried ice cream? Wouldn't that be soup?"

"That's what I thought but apparently we'll both be pleasantly surprised."

"Jay loves the food here," Toby piped up. "Don't you, Jay?" Even at the tender age of nine, he could tell something was wrong and was determined to fix it – he just didn't know how.

The teen nodded but still looked a little distracted since seeing his dad less than an hour earlier. Mac shared a look with Jack, then turned to Toby. "How about we go up and get a seat?"

Toby cast an uncertain glance at Jay, not wanting to leave his brother behind.

"We'll be right behind you, kiddo," Jack said with a wink.

As soon as Mac and Toby disappeared through the doorway and the door closed behind them, Jack's eyes found Jay. "Look, kid, I owe you an apology. I never should've treated your dad like that. I mean, the guy's a jerk but he's still your dad – "

"He stopped being my dad the night my mom died," Jay said cryptically. Then, before Jack could probe for more details, the teen followed Mac and Toby through the door.

With a sigh, Jack took up the rear of the procession and was happily distracted by the mouth-watering aromas assaulting him as he climbed the stairs into the dimly lit restaurant.

As it turned out, the beef nachos was almost enough to fill all four of them. Although, Jay didn't eat all that much, he did eat some – if for no other reason than to appease Toby. But, on the strong suggestion from Trevor, they saved enough room for dessert and each got their own dish of deep fried ice cream.

Toby asked for chocolate topping; Jay got butterscotch; and MacGyver got raspberry. Unable to decide which one he wanted, Jack opted for a combination of raspberry and butterscotch. All four of them added a generous helping of whipped cream.

Jack was the first to take a bite and moaned with pleasure as soon as the spoon touched his tongue. Mac was instantly able to taste a delectable combination of cinnamon and brown sugar in the crispy coating which covered the still ice cold scoop of vanilla ice cream. Toby ate his so fast he was afflicted with an ice cream headache every 30 seconds or so. Even Jay seemed to be enjoying the treat – he was lost in thought but he continued sliding small bites into his mouth until the dish was empty.

Mac sat back, pleasantly full and locked eyes with Jack who was sitting directly across from him. "I think Trevor deserves a huge tip, Jack. Seriously. And I seriously want to meet this friend of his and offer up my thanks."

"Apparently, she's an ex-girlfriend," Jack promptly revealed, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Don't start, Jack," MacGyver told him in no uncertain terms but his glare was without heat. Maybe it was time he moved on since the debacle with Nikki. The events of the past couple weeks showed more than ever the importance of letting people past his self-erected barriers.

* * *

After supper, they went to a re-showing of a Disney movie called _Monster Trucks._ Jack had never heard of it before but Toby was adamant about seeing it, despite Jay pointing out that he'd already seen it four times the first time it had been in theatres earlier that year.

The lead character of Tripp reminded Jack of someone but he just couldn't put his finger on it. Regardless, it had been a cute flick and a great way to end the evening.

By the time they returned to Cowie Hill, it was quite late and Toby was fast asleep in the backseat. Even Jay appeared to be in a heavy dozing session. Even so, the teen insisted on being the one to carry Toby into the house, following closely behind MacGyver and Jack with his little brother held securely in his arms.

When they got to the door, Jack was surprised to find it standing slightly ajar. Even if a safe neighbourhood, it seemed to be out of place and Jack felt his hackles raise at the implications. A glance over his shoulder at Mac told him that he wasn't the only one whose Spidey-senses were tingling.

It was dark, so MacGyver pulled out his cell phone and aimed the illumination from the screen at the door – the keyhole for the deadbolt had tiny scratch marks etched into it, and the wooden door was splintered around the doorknob. After picking the deadbolt, the lock on the knob would have been simple to bypass with a few solid, well-placed kicks against the door.

Jack signalled everyone to be quiet, then eased the door open the rest of the way. They all stepped inside and closed the door behind them, creating at least one direction from which a possible assailant would not be able to attack.

Using their silent communication again, Jack told Mac to stay with the kids while he checked upstairs. In turn, Mac didn't need to say anything to communicate to Jack to be careful.

Pulling his gun out of his ankle holster, Jack slowly advanced up the steps to check and clear each room. Once he confirmed the upstairs was empty, he returned to Mac and the boys. Toby was awake now, comprehending enough of the situation to have a stark fear in his eyes.

Jack put a finger to his lips for continued silence, then made his way through the living room and down the hall. He cleared the storage room to his left. No one would be able to fit behind the washer or dryer, but there was a little pantry nook behind the stand-up freezer. Not much room to defend himself if he encountered the kids' dad – and, let's face it, there was no doubt he was the culprit.

Jack took a deep breath, then poked his head into the dark area behind the freezer, pulling it back again just as quickly to ward off any attack, but nothing came. He peered around the corner once again to confirm, and sure enough it was empty.

He returned to the hallway and ventured into the kitchen.

There, sprawled on the floor, was Gabriella; the mid-section of her white bathrobe covered in blood. A large butcher knife lay discarded next to her, the blade and handle also red with blood. "Mac!" Jack called out. "Call an ambulance!"

He fell to his knees at Gabriella's side, grabbing a cup towel off the cupboard door as he went down, and pressed the towel against the wound on her stomach. She groaned in pain, arching away from his touch. Jack heard MacGyver skid into the room, followed by Jay and Toby. The youngest of the three cried out in alarm. "Gabby!"

Jack glanced over his shoulder and saw Jay turn Toby away from the carnage, burying the boy's face into his side an holding him close. Jack could see the tiny shoulders shake as the kid sobbed against his brother's chest.

A tea kettle sat on the counter, next to a mug and sugar canister. Mac reached out to touch the kettle. "It's still hot," he said, sharing a knowing look with Jack. Instantly, Jack's gaze moved to the areas he could no longer see on the other side of the wall, knowing that he had cleared the entire house, yet fearful that maybe... "You didn't miss anything, Jack. You're too good at what you do."

"Ambulance?" Jack asked, accepting Mac's faith in his abilities without comment.

"Already called. How's she doing?"

"She's alive. Take my phone and call Brian, will you? I don't want him finding out about this accidentally from 9-1-1 dispatch."

MacGyver leaned down and took Jack's phone out of his back pocket. Jack could see Toby sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, his arms crossed on the table and his face pressed down against them. The poor kid was still sobbing… Wait a minute. Jack's gaze moved about the room urgently. "Where's Jay?"

Jay saw the shine of the tears on his cheeks reflect off the window of the bus when the vehicle drove beneath a street light. He used the sleeve of his shirt to get rid of them. He had no idea why he was crying, he didn't feel sad. Truth be told, he didn't really feel much of anything at all.

Except for the cold pit in his stomach which had burst and started leaking ice cold hatred throughout his entire body as soon as he saw poor Gabby lying on the floor in a house she should have been safe in. And _would_ have been safe in, if Jay and Toby hadn't invaded her life.

His dad had done this. He knew it without a doubt. How ironic would it be to kill him using his father's own gun? This was the only way he and Toby, and everyone else they cared about, would finally be safe.

"You stay with Gabriella and Toby until the ambulance arrives," Jack ordered, heading out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Jay."

"Jack, you don't even know where to start looking."

The older agent shrugged. "I didn't know where to start looking for you, either – that didn't stop me from tryin'."

Mac couldn't argue that logic. "Just be careful. I'll ask Brian if he has any leads on where," he glanced at Toby, still sitting at the table but oddly silent, "you-know-who could be holed up."

"Good idea. I'll check with Riley. Maybe she found something on the guy." The last he called out over his shoulder as he made his way down the hall to the backdoor. He raced across the back lawn to the Mustang, silently praying that he caught up to Jay before the teen did something stupid.

Placing his phone on speaker, he quickly dialed Riley's number. The computer hacker answered on the first ring. "Jack! How's summer vacation treating you?" she asked, having no idea of the urgency of the call yet.

"Not good, Ri. Did you end up finding anything on Jay and Toby's dad yet?" Jack queried, starting up the engine and tearing out of the parking lot, hugely thankful for the 700 horsepower engine beneath the hood.

"Would've been easier if you'd given me a name, y'know."

"Yeah, the kids haven't been very forthcoming about the guy. They'd probably rather forget he even exists."

"Can't really blame them for that."

"So, you did find something?"

A humourless laugh erupted through the speaker. "Yeah, I found him all right. His name's Harrison Philanges and, Jack, this guy makes my dad seem like Ward Cleaver."

Jack's eyebrows rose at the classic television reference from a girl in her mid-20's but kept his comments to himself. There were more important things to discuss than pop culture. "Okay, give me his address first, then the Cliff's Notes version of everything else you found." Jack took a hard right onto Herring Cove Rd as he made his way back to the traffic circle and the downtown area beyond. Because, even before Riley provided him with the address and directions, something told him that Mr. Philanges was the type to want to be close to as many bars as possible.

* * *

Driving down the street Riley had directed him to, Jack felt his heart wrench at the sight of so many homeless people in one place. It was a familiar feeling. Everywhere he went, whether it be overseas, in the United States, or in Canada, there was always an overflowing population of people going through difficult times – each person dealing with their own personal battle to stay afloat in a drowning economy.

A moment later, he pulled up to the curb in front of a group of small apartment buildings located smack dab in the middle of one such low income neighbourhood.

Jack got out of the car and looked up at the front of the closest building, then sighed with barely contained frustration. There were no numbers to tell him for sure that this was the correct address. And remnants of recently demolished buildings lay on either side of the structure, so there was no help there. Jack started to backtrack to one of the other buildings down the street, silently praying the numbers would still be present above the front door so that he wouldn't have to search each one for Philanges' apartment.

He slowed as he passed a woman who was keeping guard over her young daughter curled up next to the wall of the building, fast asleep. Their young dog was also acting as protector, watching Jack carefully. Sensing no danger, the pup made no reaction when Jack couldn't help but stop and pull a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket. He handed the bill over and the woman looked up at him, eyes filled with tears of gratitude. She must have seen something in Jack's eyes, as well.

"You look even more troubled than I am," she said quietly, not wanting to wake her little girl.

Jack offered up a sad smile in response as he squatted down next to the small group, reaching out one hand to softly stroke the sleeping child's cheek, then scratching the dog behind the ears. "I'm actually looking for someone," he admitted, pulling out his phone so he could show her the photo Mac had had the presence of mind to send him after Jack's hasty exit to find Jay. He used his thumb and forefinger to zoom in on the face of the teen and turned the phone so she could see it.

"Yes, I saw him," she said. "He looked very upset. Lost, really."

"And he went into this building," Jack probed, pointing to the building she was resting against.

She nodded.

"Thank you," Jack said sincerely, then turned to go into the building. Her small hand came up to grip his and he turned his attention back to her. "Please, stop him from ruining his life."

Her tone was what set off alarm bells in Jack's mind. "Why would you say that?"

"He is way too young to be carrying a gun, sir. And the look in his eyes told me he's planning to use it."

His sense of urgency ratcheting up tenfold, Jack squeezed her hand reassuringly. "He's a good kid but the man he's going after is not. Maybe you and your family here should move down the street a bit? Put some distance between yourselves and this building."

The lady immediately gathered her daughter into her arms, whispering to the dog to follow. The forlorn look in her eyes as she moved a block up the street told Jack that he had effectively just evicted her from her home. He grabbed her meager belongings and carried them up to the new location for her, then allowed her to see the regret in his eyes. "It's just temporary," he told her before returning to the building at a run.

Once inside the building, Jack found himself wishing that Mac was with him. The kid's smarts and imagination made him the best partner a guy could ask for – but, right now, Toby and Gabriella needed him more than Jack. Didn't mean the ex-Delta Commando didn't notice his absence like he would a missing limb.

The buzzer system at the front door had four buttons with a name next to the first three. Philange was not one of the names listed, so process of elimination left the nameless one as the way to go. Thankfully, the numbers on the inside of the building hadn't fallen off, so Jack didn't need to guess which apartment was which as he silently took the stairs down to the bottom floor and crept along the short hallway to stand at the threshold for apartment 4.

He tried the knob, grateful when it turned easily in his hand, then eased the door open. He could hear someone yelling and recognized the voice as Jay's, disheartened but not surprised to hear the devastation in the young voice.

Jack pulled the gun out of the holster at his ankle and soundlessly slipped into the apartment.

"You killed her," he heard Jay yell. "Why couldn't you just leave us alone?"

"You're my kids," Harrison countered, his voice tinged with contempt instead of love. "You belong to me. You _and Toby."_

"You leave Toby out of this," Jay exclaimed. "You will never get close to him ever again!"

"Are you forgetting who the real danger in this family is, Jay? _You_ were the one who's to blame for your mother's death, remember? Not me."

"Shut up!"

"If you had just come home from school like you were supposed to, instead of wasting time at the arcade with Toby, you would've been able to save her! Then again, you always have been a useless brat."

Sensing the altercation was reaching a crescendo, Jack followed the sound of the voices through the tiny apartment and stepped into the living room. Across from him, Jay held a gun on Harrison, who was sitting in a Lazy-boy recliner gazing up at his teenage son, too smug and arrogant to recognize the severity of the situation.

"Hey, buddy," Jack said, his own voice a thousand times more calm than he felt. "What's goin' on?"

Jay's gaze flicked to him in surprise, then back to Harrison. But that one glimpse into the kid's eyes revealed an unadulterated view of torment the likes of which a boy his age should never have to feel.

"Wh – what are you doing here?" Jay stammered.

Clearly seeing an opportunity, Harrison conjured up a bogus kind of terror. "Please, you have to help me! This kid is crazy!"

Jack immediately brought his gun up to bear more steadily on Jay's father, giving him a lethal gaze to match the threat of the weapon. "Remember my promise from earlier today," he asked. The now honest terror in the man's eyes told him that he did. "Good. Now, shut up or I'll keep it."

Although his eyes remained on the degenerate, Jack's next words were meant for Jay. "Come on, kid. This isn't the way to handle this."

"Why do you care about him?" Jay demanded, a sense of betrayal in his tone.

"Him?" Jack replied incredulously. "I couldn't care less about him. But I do care about you." That got a steady look from the teen – surprise mixed with disbelief. "That's right, kiddo. I care about you."

"So do I," Mac suddenly joined in from behind.

Jack's Delta Commando training was the only thing that kept him from jumping at the unexpected voice. "See?" he said, keeping his focus on the teen. "And Brian and Gabriella do, too. So, just put down the gun and – "

"He killed Gabriella!" Jay yelled, taking a step closer to his father and firming up his gun arm to stop the shaking. "Brian's gonna hate me now!"

"Gabriella's alive, Jay" MacGyver cut in. "She's at the hospital right now. The doctors told me the knife didn't hit any critical organs. She lost a lot of blood but after a blood transfusion, she's gonna be fine."

"You're lying," Jay insisted, unable to believe that the odds had finally played in his favour.

"Nuh-uh," Jack said. "Mac isn't wired to lie, Jay. Just look at him and you'll see that he's telling the truth."

"Brian wanted to be here with you now but I insisted he remain with Gabriella and Toby because I knew that's what you would want him to do." MacGyver considered his next words carefully. He'd made a promise to Brian, and he hated breaking promises, but he knew Brian would understand given the circumstances. "Brian and Gabriella have set things in motion to adopt you and Toby, Jay. They love you, man. And love doesn't get wiped out by one action, especially when that action was committed by someone else."

Jay did pivot a bit to study MacGyver now and Jack could see the kid's resolve falter. "You don't want to do this, buddy," Jack said softly. "Put the gun down. Not to sound cliché, but he's just not worth it."

Sirens cut through the night, still at a distance but certainly closing fast. Jack did not want Jay to be the one the cops took aim at – they wouldn't know the situation, and protocol dictated that the one with the gun was considered to be the threat and the unarmed, the victim until proven otherwise.

Jack felt his blood boil at that possibility – Jay wasn't a true threat any more than a reprobate like Harrison was a victim. Riley's research had revealed that Harrison had hired a thug needing a fix to kill his wife, likely so that he could collect on her life insurance to cover his gambling debts – the rest of which he had squandered on booze and even more gambling.

The fact that Jay had been blaming himself all this time for his mother's death was unacceptable but Jack knew the knowledge that his father had been complicit in her murder would only escalate the issue. He'd save that revelation for after the teen was not holding a weapon which, if fired at his target, would change his life forever. Jack was _not_ going to allow the murdering scumbag-father to have that kind of control over his son. In fact, any control the guy wielded over Jay was going to end right here, right now.

"You may be this man's son, Jay, but you are _nothing_ like him." The gun lowered even further as Jack's words began to sink in.

"Think about Toby," Mac added. "What will happen to him, if you're in jail?"

"Brian and Gabriella will take care of him," Jay tried.

"That won't be enough, man. He needs his big brother."

Jay's eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall. Jack took the opportunity to step even closer to the kid, reaching out and relinquishing the weapon from the now lax hand. Jack locked eyes with him for a brief moment and saw the blatant anguish in the gaze an instant before the teen turned and ran out of the apartment.

"You can't follow through on anything, can you?" Harrison yelled after him. "Ya' little cry baby!"

Jack took a menacing step towards the creep but felt Mac take hold of his elbow. "Jay needs you," his partner said softly, reminding Jack of who was truly important in this father-son equation.

It wasn't until that moment that Jack noticed the sirens had stopped. "The cops," he muttered, fearing the officers had unknowingly pounced on the already traumatized teen.

MacGyver's responding grin was nothing if not mischievous as he moved over to Harrison, plastic zip tie in hand. "Remember China?"

"What? How did you have time for - ?"

"I didn't," Mac admitted, finishing securing Harrison's wrists with the make-shift cuffs and holding up his phone. "But I did discover that there's an app for that! Who knew?"

Jack's pride in the younger man was plain to see in his own smile. As MacGyver used the phone to really call 9-1-1, Jack turned and ran after Jay.

* * *

Jack raced out onto the street, looking left, then right, desperate to find the teen. Then he felt eyes on him and turned to see the homeless woman from earlier. She pointed to the area between the building he'd just exited and the demolished one next to it. He nodded his thanks, then took off in that direction.

It wasn't long before he found Jay. The teen was sitting on the ground with his back pressed into the corner created by the wall of the building and a long fence dividing this property from the one behind it. He was completely curled in on himself and rocking back and forth.

Jack approached carefully. He reached out to him but as soon as his hand made contact with the quaking shoulder, the teen rocketed to his feet, fists raised in a defensive position.

"Easy, kid. Easy."

The teen relaxed somewhat upon seeing Jack but still kept his distance. "I'm fine," he said softly, tone telling Jack the exact opposite.

"Yeah, I know you are," Jack responded. "You and Mac, you're always 'fine', no matter what the situation is."

"Leave me alone, Jack."

"No can do, compadre."

"Yeah, you can. Just put one foot in front of the other and let them take you in the other direction."

This kid reminded him more and more of Mac with every passing minute but he was clearly shaken and Jack couldn't blame him. He took another step forward, only to have the teen charge the couple of feet between them and shove at his chest with both hands.

"Just GO!"

Jack stumbled back a step, surprised at both the aggression and the strength. He considered that maybe he was making the wrong move here. He barely knew this kid. More importantly, the kid barely knew him. Who was he to lead an emotional intervention of this magnitude? But one look at the torment in the teen's eyes reminded Jack that it was him or no one.

Brian loved both Jay and Toby, Jack was certain of that, but he had enough on his plate with Gabriella getting stabbed. Besides, by the time he was able to see past his own understandable grief, Jay will have buried his emotions so deep, no one would be able to get through to him.

Jack's thoughts again shifted to MacGyver, as they always seemed to when the subject of repressed grief came into play. After studying the teen for another moment, the ex-Delta Commando pushed away all doubts of whether or not he was the right man for the job and jumped in with both feet, deciding to cut straight to the quick. "You know, you're not to blame for your mom's death, right?"

"You said it yourself, some bad people make choices that hurt other people," Jay declared angrily. "I made a choice that day and my mom died."

"The key phrase in there is 'bad people', Jay. You are not the bad person in this scenario; or in any scenario, for that matter. You're a lost kid who's got more pain than he knows what to do with."

"I'm not a kid," Jay insisted, voice still shaking.

Jack took a bold step toward him. "I hate to break it to ya' but, yeah, you are. But even if you were a full grown adult, you'd still need someone to take care of you now and then."

Jay eyed Jack with suspicion when he took another step forward. The teen looked behind him, seeking escape, but the building and fence were at his back; there was no room for retreat.

"You saw how I took care of Mac after he was poisoned, right? How I held him in my arms?"

"That – that was different," Jay tried. "He was sick."

"Pain is pain, kiddo. No matter what the cause."

A single tear made it past the long erected barriers and Jay wiped it away angrily.

"And do you know what? Just this morning, I got word that a good friend of mine died and MacGyver held me while _I_ cried." Jack studied him closely. The teen's entire body was visibly quaking now, likely from the effort to keep his interior walls from tumbling down around him. Jack took another step forward, only an arm's reach away now. "Ain't no shame in cryin', kiddo."

Jay shook his head in denial, dislodging yet another tear. "Dad says – "

"Dad? You mean that scumbag in there?" Jack asked, jerking a thumb towards the building behind him without taking his eyes off the teen. "He is _not_ someone you should be listening to, and I think you know that."

Jay tried desperately to stay in control. _Never let them see you cry._ But it was getting more and more difficult, especially with Jack's close proximity. Movement over Jack's shoulder caught the teen's attention and he saw MacGyver round the corner, then immediately turn back as soon as he recognized the situation. He even stood guard at the corner, blocking all access to the area – granting them a modicum of privacy. Still, the teen couldn't just let go… could he?

He felt Jack's calloused hand suddenly grip the back of his neck, much like earlier that day, but this time the grip was followed by a firm tug and Jay found himself held tightly in the other man's arms. It had been so long since he'd felt someone's arms around him; comforting him. The last time was the night before his mother…

"No! Get off me!" he demanded, not wanting the comfort – not _deserving_ the comfort.

He pushed against the hold, desperate to get free! But Jack was even stronger than he looked and his arms held him like a vise. He squirmed, and kicked, and pushed, and pulled. Until he was panting with the exertion.

"I said this to Mac, and I'll say it to you… You gotta let yourself _feel_ , kid."

"I _can't_ ," Jay insisted into his shoulder, energy finally depleted.

"Yeah, you can. Just stand still, and stop trying so hard _not_ to. Just let it happen."

Even as Jack felt the kid's head whip back and forth in denial, the first sob ripped free. Jay made one final effort to push away but Jack held firm. Then a second sob tore out of him; and a third. A moment later, Jay's fists grabbed a hold of Jack's black tee in a death grip, the slim frame shaking with more frequent sobs until the teen's legs gave out on him.

Jack lowered them both to the ground, pulling Jay even more firmly against his chest. He stroked the light brown hair much the same as he'd done for Mac just a few days earlier, and kept doing it until the sobs quieted and the breathing slowed.

A moment later, Jay pulled away from him, face lowered in shame as he rose to his feet. His t-shirt shifted a bit in his movement and light from the nearby security lamp caught onto something on the teen's lower back. Jack narrowed his eyes in concern and suspicion. He grabbed Jay by the elbow, halting him mid-rise, and used his other hand to lift the hem of the blue t-shirt.

The soldier in him warred with his Texas-sized heart as he gazed at the large burn mark on the tender flesh of Jay's back. A burn had a distinct point at one end, rounded at the other, with tiny circles interspersed throughout its centre. Jack instantly recognized the shape as a clothes' iron. He also knew the hot object would have had to been held against Jay's back for several seconds to have that kind of definition.

The ex-Delta Commando, ex-CIA, ex-DXS, and current Phoenix agent and soldier won this particular war as he jumped to his feet and stormed back down the length of the building, ignoring the concerned "Jack?" he heard from MacGyver as he brushed past him, blinded by rage, focused on just one thing – white-hot vengeance.

As Jack stalked into the apartment and across to the radiator Harrison was currently zip-tied to, the soldier emerging from deep down inside was happy to see the fear flicker across the asshole's face at the mere sight of him.

Before Harrison knew what was happening, Jack's fist was connecting with his face with brute force. Harrison collapsed back onto the floor, unconscious after one hit, but Jack didn't care. He raised his fist and pummeled him again. And again. And…

Suddenly, he felt a grip on his arm, holding him back. He fought against the hold for a moment, then Mac's voice broke through the white noise of rage in his head. "Jack!"

Allowing his partner to pull him away from his target, Jack gazed down at the now bloody and swollen face below him. He noticed that MacGyver wasn't looking at Harrison though and he followed the younger man's line of sight to see Jay standing in the threshold to the living room. The teen's still red-rimmed eyes were as wide as saucers, his mouth agape as his gaze moved from Jack to his father, then back to Jack.

Jack prayed that his moment of blind rage hadn't just negated the progress he had achieved just moments before. "Jay, I'm – " what? Sorry? That would be a lie. He wasn't one bit sorry. But he did regret hurting the teen.

He was saved from having to explain himself when Jay covered the distance between them and threw his arms around Jack. Surprised, Jack exchanged glances with MacGyver whose eyebrows had also nearly risen to his hairline. Then, throwing caution to the wind, Jack returned the teen's embrace.

Jay's tears were silent this time, and more to do with relief and thanks than the long suppressed pain of earlier.

* * *

The next morning, Jack and MacGyver returned to the hospital, this time as visitors. They spent some time with Brian, Gabriella, Toby and Jay; marvelling at the fact that the foursome seemed like an honest-to-goodness family now. Jay still had a ways to go in his healing after so many months of pent up grief but he had made huge progress the night before thanks to Jack Dalton-esque wisdom – rarely appreciated and oft under estimated.

Jay was a little less eager than Toby with the goodbye hugs but he returned each embrace with Jack and MacGyver, rather than simply enduring them or avoiding them altogether. Jack held onto him a bit longer than Mac, whispering words of encouragement for Jay's ears only. Whatever he said brought a tinge of pink to the teen's cheeks and his eyes shone brighter than they had been previously.

It was Jack and MacGyver's turn to blush, however, when Gabriella insisted on them leaning down so that she could kiss each of them on the cheek. "Thank you so much for taking care of our boys," she said earnestly, meaning every word.

After bidding goodbye to the new family, and promising to visit again soon, MacGyver and Jack left the hospital. As they were leaving, Toby was stretched out on the bed next to Gabriella, curled into her side. Jay sat in the chair next to the bed, his hand resting on the mattress next to her hand, fingers just barely brushing hers. And Brian stood next to Jay, one hand splayed out across the teen's upper back.

* * *

With the car already packed with their belongings, Jack figured they were headed straight to the airport. So, he was surprised when Mac took a different route, further into the downtown core instead of in the direction of the highway leading to the airport.

"Where we goin', bud?"

Instead of answering, MacGyver pulled up to the curb in front of a majestic looking stone church – stained glass windows, gigantic steeples, even the doors seemed fit for admitting giants from some of Jack's favourite fairy tales from his childhood.

Mac climbed out of the car first and Jack followed. He waited for Mac to round the car and join him on the sidewalk before asking, "Why are we here?"

MacGyver avoided eye contact, even going so far as to kick a tiny stone with the toe of his shoe… was he embarrassed? The kid finally looked up and the pink-tinged cheeks confirmed Jack's suspicions, but still did nothing to solve the mystery of the choice of locale. "Mac?"

"Well, I mean, I don't know whether I believe in this stuff or not. Like I told Toby, my mom did but after she died, I didn't really have anyone in my life to ask about it."

"Still doesn't answer my question, bud," Jack grinned.

"Well, regardless of my beliefs or lack thereof, I know that _you_ believe. And, well, I thought, if you believe, you might, I don't know, find some kind of… comfort here."

Jack felt his eyes well up with emotion. "Mac – "

Misunderstanding the tears in his friend's eyes, Mac backpedalled a bit. "Was I wrong? I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this stuff – "

His words were cut off as he found himself hauled into Jack's rough embrace. One calloused hand tousled his hair as Jack whispered, "Thank you, brother."

After a moment, Mac pulled away. "Just go in already, will you, please?"

"Did you want to - ?"

MacGyver would have joined him but something told him that this was something Jack had to do on his own. "Nah, I've been kinda craving some peace and quiet," he teased. "I think, I'll stay out here and enjoy the sunshine."

Jack smiled tenderly, always seeming to know what Mac was saying even when he wasn't saying it, and made his way up the long walkway to St. Mary's Basilica.

* * *

Finally on the plane and headed home, the two friends enjoyed the trip in relative silence. Then, out of the blue, Mac said, "For the record, I'm more sure now than I ever was… Captain America is a better superhero for you."

Jack chuckled softly from his reclining position on the sofa at the back of the plane. He silently studied the blond who was sitting across from him, staring out through the small window at the blue sky and clouds. "What's goin' through that ginormous brain of yours, bud?"

"I'm just thinking that my dad leaving was probably for the best," he said quietly. "But I still need to know the truth about _why_ he left."

Taking this moment to tell Mac something that had been on his mind since long before this mission, Jack sat forward a bit and waited for the kid to lock eyes with him before saying, "I know that you missed out on having a dad but, really, your dad is the one who missed out the most – because he didn't get to see his genius son grow up into a hero with a huge heart, who saves people's lives on a daily basis."

Mac's grin was soft and sincere. "I said this before but I was doped up and loopy, so I want to say it again now – fully in control and with my facilities completely intact." He maintained earnest eye contact with his friend. "I never really realized it before I had that fever-induced dream but I wish you had been my father, Jack. I wish that dream was how things really happened."

"It would have been an honour to be your dad, Mac. I mean that," Jack told him.

The next few hours of the trip were ensconced in a companionable silence, during which both men fell asleep. Neither had any nightmares – but both dreamt about how it would have been in an alternate reality where they had met years earlier, with Mac's mom alive, and Jack stepping into the role of not only 'Doting Dad' but also 'Loving Husband'.

The End


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